Rosenkreuz sweet Rosenkreuz
by Yanagi-sen
Summary: Complete! Their lives have been connected for 10 years... will it all end in one night?
1. Welcome to Rosenkreuz

1 Rosenkreuz… sweet Rosenkreuz…  
  
by Yanagi-sen  
  
Weiss Kreuz fanfic  
  
Usual disclaimers apply. They're not mine to play with… but I'm going to anyway. We all learned how to share in Kindergarten, right?  
  
Warnings: angst, POV switching… I'll try to make it as clear as possible  
  
/character thoughts/  
  
~mental thoughts~  
  
  
  
2 Chapter 1: Welcome to Rosenkreuz  
  
  
  
Why did Weiss have to show up and make everything so difficult? They had actually managed to betray Esset, something he'd been planning and plotting for years. They were on the brink of achieving all they had worked for… and then THEY had to arrive.  
  
Even as Crawford moved to face off with Weiss's katana wielding leader, part of his concentration was still on his own team's redhead. He ducked and dodged, mocking the younger man, even as he watched Schu fight that blond playboy. He felt the building shake and shudder and with a sickening lurch… the floor beneath them gave way. He caught Schu's jade eyes with his own, just before they fell into darkness…  
  
  
  
-10 years earlier-  
  
The new recruits were being brought in. Individual talents might be brought to the training facility at Rosenkreuz throughout the year, but in general most of the new additions arrived after Esset's annual roundup of psis. The kids, ages ranging from as young as eight to around twelve, milled in the courtyard nervously. There were perhaps 20-30 youngsters; many would be weeded out within the first few days. A few more would disappear over the next several weeks. Of those that remained, most would be only minor talents, recruited to keep the massive organization functioning, getting desk jobs, maintenance, or other menial roles. But a few… only a handful, would be powerful… and THAT was the reason they were here. Questions and conversations in a dozen languages filled the air, as did the nearly overwhelming feeling of excitement, and fear. Many of the children didn't even know where they were or why there were there, having been taken forcefully from their homes and families. Others carried the hardened looks and jaded eyes of those who had already seen too much and suffered far more than any child should.  
  
One of the latter stood off to the side of the crowd. Leaning casually against the wall, for all appearances uncaring of what was going on. He had hair the color of flame, and even from a distance the green of his eyes stood out in his thin, pale face. His clothes were a mismatched affair, ill fitting and in desperate need of repair, and yet he had an unconscious air about him that drew the eye.  
  
At sixteen Brad Crawford was beginning his final year of training, and as such was involved with 'settling in' the new arrivals. His eyes roamed over the crowd again, but kept returning to the redhead. His powers may not be fully developed yet, but his instincts told him that the kid could be trouble. Trouble for good or trouble for ill, he couldn't say. But trouble nonetheless.  
  
"Herr Crawford."  
  
"Herr Schultz."  
  
"I see you are already sizing up our 'crop' for this year. What do you think?" The American shrugged, not wishing to speak to the head trainer anymore than necessary. Image was very important here… he was trying to cultivate a fairly cold, calculating one that would get him left alone. "Hmm… true. It is too soon to tell. Well time to get the herd moving." He stepped away from Crawford and mounted the platform at one end of the small courtyard.  
  
  
  
Bren wasn't a patient person at the best of times, and certainly not when he knew he was being toyed with. He snorted at the crowd of kids as they waited. Some tittered nervously, some cried, some like him, were trying to look as if nothing bothered them. He watched as one of the older girls loudly proclaimed that 'she wasn't scared'. /Poor saps… they have no clue what we're getting into. / Then again, neither did he really. But he was sure whatever it was couldn't be worse than what he was leaving. He just hated waiting out here in a mob… cooling his heels while that small group sized them up from the corner. Oh, he was very aware that they were there and what there were doing, even if the sheep around him hadn't caught on yet.  
  
Feeling eyes focus solely on him, he glanced around. That black-haired guy was watching him again. He tried to observe the older teen without appearing to. The kid suddenly nodded deferentially to the older man who had spoken to him. Bren snorted. /And here I thought that guy had potential. / Well, HE wasn't going to be some whipped stooge! He was here to learn to control his 'curse' and then he was gone. He had no intentions of being a lackey-boy for some old farts.  
  
At last, the older guy mounted the platform at one end and waited for the crowd to fall silent. He spoke, first in what Bren recognized as English, though he himself didn't understand more than a few words, then in French, then German. After that a younger Asian woman yammered at them, he assumed in various oriental languages. It appeared as though everyone had gotten the gist of the message, if not a full understanding.  
  
He mused over the 'message' as they were herded into two lines, male and female, and started to slowly move into the complex. "Greetings. You have been brought here because you possess the potential of having a very powerful gift. You are different from the rest of society in that you have certain abilities that most do not. We at Rosenkreuz will help you to discover your potential. Keep in mind that everyone here is also likewise gifted. You will be sorted according to the nature of your gift. Later you will have smaller group briefings and have the opportunity to ask questions. If you will please form two lines, ladies to the right, lads to the left; we will begin the process."  
  
After an interminable wait, Bren reached the door, just inside was a table, behind which sat an older man, asking questions and filling out forms, a middle aged woman, and that black-haired guy that had been watching him earlier.  
  
The woman looked at him with icy-blue eyes. But it was the old man who spoke. "Nationality?"  
  
"German."  
  
"Talent?"  
  
"He is a telepath." The woman answered for him, as he hesitated, good thing, cause till that moment he didn't know WHAT his 'curse' was called.  
  
"Age?"  
  
"12"  
  
"Name?"  
  
He paused for a moment. Did he REALLY want to tell these people? A name was a powerful thing to know about someone. He was aware of the fact that all three were now staring at him. He swallowed and cleared his throat. "Schuldich… call me Schuldich."  
  
"Very well… Schuldich." Her words carried no warmth. "Follow the corridor straight ahead, it will take you to the showers. You will clean up and receive your new clothing. They will tell you what to do from there." The older man handed him what looked like a dog tag though there was no printing and the metal was blue in color. Schuldich turned and walked down the hallway arriving at the showers to join yet another line.  
  
A rather severe looking man waited beside another table piled high with drab gray uniforms. "Tag?" He looked at the piece of blue metal and then up and down Bren's body. He pointed to a pile. "Take one from there. Move along." The redhead took the bundle and moved ahead to the locker room area. A younger boy, in a gray uniform sporting red trim gestured him over to one side.  
  
"That stall is free. Go in, take off what you are wearing and then drop it outside the curtain. Any personal effects you have, put in this bag. Shower and when you are done, put on the uniform you were given. Then take your bag of effects to the table at the other end of the hall." With that he turned toward the next kid coming in the door.  
  
Bren entered the stall and set his new clothing on the bench inside beside a pile of towels. He took off the stained and torn rags he had been wearing and set them outside with a bit of relief, they were really starting to stink. He snagged a towel off the pile and ducked behind the second curtain. Bren showered quickly, but did stand under the spray for a moment, relishing the feel of the hot water; it had been a long time since he'd had the opportunity. Toweling off, he poked at the gray bundle. He found a pair of loose pants, with a drawstring, probably to make fitting easier, a drab blue tee-shirt, a heavier gray shirt that was almost like a jacket with blue trim, and underwear. No socks and no shoes. He dressed quickly, grabbed the comb waiting beside the towels and dragged it through his shoulder-length red hair. He bound it back from his face with the yellow scarf he always used and then took his tag and the empty effects bag and left the stall.  
  
He noticed his old clothing was gone. Probably taken to be cleaned, or burned. That was the more likely of the two. The shower area was in a frenzy of activity, new kids entering, showering, changing and leaving again as fast as those in charge could push them. Bren walked to the table at the end. There was a crate of bags on the table and several more beneath it. He held up his tag and handed the young man his empty bag.  
  
"Wait." He pointed toward Bren's scarf.  
  
"What?"  
  
"You need to leave that here."  
  
"But I need it, my hair."  
  
"It won't matter in a few minutes, now put the scarf in the bag."  
  
"But…"  
  
"Is there a problem?" Both boys turned to see another, older teen looking at them with a frown. It was the black-haired guy from before; his uniform had blue trim, like Bren's. His German was perfect… although he did have a trace of an accent.  
  
"Eeh, no Herr Crawford. He just needs to put his scarf in the bag… he said he needed it for his hair… but…"  
  
"Ah." Crawford turned his full attention to Bren. "Schuldich, I believe you said… first-years are not permitted personal effects. I realize the necessity of the item, but as your hair will be cut in a few minutes it will not matter. Your items will be returned to you at a later date. Please put it in the bag." His voice was cool and controlled, a voice to be obeyed, a voice Bren couldn't ignore.  
  
"Ja." He removed the scarf, and his wild mop of hair instantly threatened his sight. The boy accepted the scarf and put it in the bag with a sigh of relief, writing 'Schuldich' on it and dropping it into the crate. Crawford nodded toward the door and the redhead left the locker room and it's frenetic activity, he was getting a major headache.  
  
"Sit there." The old man flicked a cape over him with the ease of long practice and picked up a pair of scissors.  
  
"Is it really necessary."  
  
"Regulations state first-year hair length to be no longer than the top of your collar." He said as he simultaneously removed about four inches from Bren's hair. The man, dressed in brown, came around to the front and trimmed a bit off the sides and top, turning his face this way and that. "That'll do. Go that way." He removed the cape, adding the red hair to the pile on the floor, which a frantic young boy was trying to keep swept up, and nudged Bren out of the chair and toward the door.  
  
  
  
"Wait here." After padding down a much quieter hallway, Bren was directed into what appeared to be a medical facility. He was waved toward a small room and told to remove his clothes, he really wished they would make up their minds, and told to wait and a doctor would be in. A younger, blushing boy, who's uniform had green trim, had entered and requested his tag before ducking out, leaving Bren alone again.  
  
Suddenly an older man bustled in carrying a file from which he was reading. He glanced up at the redhead. "Schuldich?" Bren nodded. "All right." The doctor asked questions for several minutes, the last time he'd seen a doctor, any hospital stays, operations, shots, etc. Then he made Bren stand on the scales, measured height, poked and prodded him for a while, made notes, and in general was totally impersonal about the whole thing. "A nurse will be in to draw blood for tests and give you your shots." With that the man disappeared leaving Bren feeling more like a stray dog than a human being. A steely-eyed male nurse came in, drew the blood and administered the shots, not seeming to care about making the process any less painful. He ordered Bren to dress and left.  
  
"Geesh… you'd think they'd be a little gentler. I hope they're nicer to the little kids." Somehow he doubted that was the case. The young boy returned and handed Bren his tag again, only now, it was stamped with a series of letters and numbers and underneath in smaller letters, 'Schuldich'.  
  
"Go out of the infirmary and turn left, at the end of the hall turn right, you'll find a room where they will fit you with shoes." The boy's voice was very soft and he refused to meet Bren's eyes.  
  
"Thanks." The boy looked up, surprise on his face and smiled slightly before dashing off again.  
  
  
  
After receiving socks, shoes and more instructions, Bren found himself waiting with a group of nine other boys. Everyone's uniform had blue trim. They had been given a spartan meal and told their area head and mentor students would be with them as soon as possible. /Hmm, as soon as possible must mean something different where I'm from./ Bren mused from his corner away from the others. His headache was getting worse, the only thing he could do was try to distance himself from everyone and hope it would fade. /Let's see… so far all the kids I've seen have been wearing this gray uniform. So that must mean everyone in gray is a student. The clerks and servers have been in brown, maybe that indicates they are workers? The other adults were in street clothes; maybe they get to wear what they want. Now the students all seem to have trim on their uniforms in red, blue, or green. Everyone here is in blue. Maybe that indicates your 'area' I think they called it. They said we'd be divided according to the 'nature of our talents'. So does that mean everyone here is a telepath? Or does the blue mean something different. I just wish they'd get this show on the road, I'm sick of waiting./  
  
~I'm sure most everyone here would agree with you.~  
  
Bren gasped, as did most of the other first-years, at the voice that was suddenly in their heads. An older man, dark brown hair graying at the temples stared at them from the doorway. He wasn't very large… but there was something about him. A 'presence', that made him seem much more formidable than his appearance let on.  
  
~I'm sure you all have many questions so let's get started. Everyone have a seat please.~ The man made his way toward a chair set to one side of the room. The students scrambled to get their chairs turned toward him, and then the room was dead silent. Several older students, Crawford among them entered and stood against the wall behind the man. ~My name is Harold Forbech. You will address me as Herr Forbech. For that matter, you will address everyone except for your fellow yearmates as Herr or Frau as they all outrank you. You may wonder how you can hear me since my mouth is not moving. My talent is called telepathy, the ability to speak within the mind. There are other applications of this talent, which you will learn about at a later date.~  
  
~You have probably noticed the color on your uniforms. We divide all psychic talents, for you are all psis of one sort or another, into three areas. You wear blue, which identifies your talents as for the most part Mental in nature. You are all telepaths, telempaths, illusionists, clairvoyants, precognitives, or clairaudients. The people you see wearing red have Physical talents. They are telekinetics, transmuters, or pyrokinetics. The green indicates Healers. Many of these terms will be unfamiliar to you; do not be alarmed, you will learn all about these abilities and more in the coming years.~  
  
~The next few months will no doubt be very stressing to you all. To ease your transition, we assign mentor students in their final year in your area to assist you. You go to them first with any problems you may have. You will begin testing tomorrow morning to determine what level of education you have, we stress the importance of 'normal' education in addition to our specialized programs. For tonight, you will be shown to your quarters. You will stay with your mentor student for the first semester, after which you will be moved into the dorms.~ Herr Forbech smiled… it wasn't a kind smile… cold and calculating… it sent a shiver down Bren's spine. ~Welcome to Rosenkreuz.~ 


	2. Second Chances

Rosenkreuz… sweet Rosenkreuz… 

Chapter 2: Second Chances  

The mentor students started to call for their new charges.  Crawford came around the room and stood next to Bren.  "It appears, Schuldich… that you are coming with me.  This way."  The black haired man led him from the room and through the corridors.  "Go ahead."

"Uh?"

"Ask away."

"How?  Are you a telepath?"

Crawford snorted.  "No.  I'm a precog."

"Oh."

"Well?"

"Um, where are we going?"

"To the room we will be sharing for this semester.  At the end you will move into the dorms and the mentor students will have private rooms, it's a 'reward' for dealing with you lot."

"You're not German, are you?"

"No.  American."

"Your German is very good."

"Thank you, do you speak English?"

"A few words… but not a lot."

"You will."

"That a prediction?" he asked sarcastically.

"No.  Everyone gets taught English because so much of the world uses it.  You will no doubt learn other languages as well.  You will understand tomorrow at your educational orientation."  He paused before a door.  They had climbed three levels and traversed what appeared to be a maze to reach it.  "This is our room."

Bren took a look, he was less than impressed.  The whole thing measured maybe 12x15 feet.  A small bed, almost a cot really, was pushed into each of the far corners.  At the end of each bed was a small cupboard.  A single desk sat in between the beds under the small window.  The walls themselves where cement block, painted an off-white, the floor an unattractive tile.  He sighed, this place was distinctly lacking in color.  And how would he ever find his way around.  Crawford pushed past him and sat at the desk, opening a large book and readying paper and pencil.

"And don't worry about the size of the place.  You'll get a map tomorrow and you'll be able to find your way around soon enough."  

/Orientation my ass!/  It wasn't an orientation… it was bloody brainwashing, and if Bren could recognize it at 12 years old, he was either smarter than the average recruit, or they were clumsy.  He was hoping for smarter.  It became apparent to him fairly quickly what the rules to survival were in this place.  Stay quiet, do what you're told, don't ask questions, don't disobey… and you might just make it out of here in one piece.  Physically.  He didn't hold out much hope for mentally.  Almost no one was here by choice.  They had all been picked up, from homes and families, orphanages, off the streets; and brought in some cases thousands of miles because they MIGHT become a powerful psi.  As the head instructor droned on about rules and consequences it was obvious to Bren that they didn't really care about their students well being.  

The hierarchy of the place also seemed to be very important.  They were the lowest of the low and anyone, from instructors to upperclassmen, to the staff that cleaned the bathrooms, could order them about at will.  Bren was sure there were rules meant to keep them at least moderately safe, but whether they were enforced or not… he didn't really hope for much.

Finally they were given course lists, waited in line, again, to get books and supplies including additional uniforms, and then told to spend the rest of the day, wandering around the facility with their maps.  They wouldn't get another opportunity to learn how to get somewhere, classes started tomorrow; there was no excuse for tardiness.

/Dammit all!  Where the Hell is that stairway?/  Bren had gone wandering as soon as he'd dropped his books off in his and Crawford's room.  Good thing he had an excellent memory, cause finding his way to the various classrooms was difficult.  The place was a maze, full of corridors and staircases and everything looked alike.  There were no reference points anywhere.  No handy signs to help you on your way.  Just miles of stark hallways and intersections.  And now… he was lost.  He must have taken a wrong turn somewhere.  It was getting close to mealtime and he couldn't figure out how to get to the dining hall.  He knew he was in the educational wing, classrooms and labs lined the corridor, but how did he get back out of here.  Bren sighed and slumped against one wall, trying to puzzle out his map.

"Well… what do we have here?  Did a little first-year get turned around?"

Bren looked up to see an upperclassman, a very large upperclassman, grinning down at him.  He looked more like a master looking down on his favorite dog.

"Well, runt?"

"Um.. yes sir.  If you could please tell me how to get back to the service wing I would appreciate it."

"Sure… but what are you going to do for me?"

"I don't understand."

"If I help you.  Nothing's for free around here, runt.  So what ya gonna do for me."

Bren swallowed nervously.  He didn't like the way this guy was looking at him, like toy waiting to be played with.  /Think, think… you've always been able to get out of situations before… /  He looked at the guy's uniform.  /Red… oh shit… physical psi.  If he's a tk I'm in a lot of trouble… Hell, if he's a pyro I'm in trouble…/  He realized it was taking him too long to think when the older teen suddenly loomed over him.

"You see, runt.  I'm used to getting certain… services.  Now, I'm sure a pretty thing like yourself has done this before."  His hand rested on his hip, drawing Bren's attention to the front of his pants, and the very obvious bulge.  "Now… you take care of my little problem here… and I'll take care of yours.  Fair trade if I do say so myself."  He suddenly lunged forward, trapping Bren between him and the wall, grinding his hips into the younger boy's slight body.  "What do you say… runt?"

"I say back away from him before I break your neck."  Crawford leaned casually against the wall a little ways away, watching them with cold, brown eyes.

"Oh you do, do you… Crawford?"  The bully pushed away from Bren with reluctance.  And then he was lying on the cold tiled floor, blood spurting from his nose.  

Crawford wiped a bit of blood off his hand.  "Yes… I do.  McAllen."

McAllen hauled himself up off the floor and stumbled away.  "Shit Crawford, I didn't know he was yours alright!  Damn…"  He disappeared around a corner.

Crawford turned his brown eyes on Bren, they were warmer than before.  "You okay?"  Bren didn't trust himself to speak so he just nodded.  "Come on… it's almost dinner time."  He led the way out of the wing and toward the more populated areas.  "Just a warning.  Stick around others for now.  First-years are always popular targets.  Don't go off by yourself until everyone gets sorted out.  McAllen will leave you alone now… others won't be so wise.  I can't always predict when you'll get into trouble."

"You 'saw' it?"

"Yes.  And I saw what would happen if I didn't intervene.  Learn the ropes fast, kid.  There are no second chances in this place."


	3. Showers and Attachments

Rosenkreuz… sweet Rosenkreuz… 

Chapter 3:  Showers and Attachments

Four months.  Four months in this particular level of Hell.  Bren was positive this had been the longest four months of his life.  Within a week of their arrival, 7 of the 28 new students where gone.  In the following month, another 5 students also disappeared.  No explanation was ever given, they were there one night, the next morning when everyone got up… they were gone, with all their effects.  Their mentors and instructors never spoke of them; it was as if they had never existed.  

On the up side, Bren wasn't suffering from his headaches for now.  One thing they did that first week, was use a high-level telepath to go in and block all the first-years' gifts until they could be taught how to use them, or at least control them.  Untrained telepaths and telempaths ran the risk of going insane, and tks and pyros were a danger to everyone, including themselves.  Their powers were unblocked once a month for one-on-one training sessions on the basics, but that was it.  Bren didn't miss the headaches… but he did miss the background static that had been so much a part of him for the last four years.

He thought his classes were going fairly well.  He didn't have the best grades in the class, but his weren't the worst either.  He knew that if he really tried… he could probably be at the top of the class.  But he didn't want that sort of attention.  Being in front only meant you were a target, and in the backstabbing community of Rosenkreuz, being a target was not the place to be.  So Bren was careful to never do too well, and have to constantly look over his shoulder, or too poorly, and risk looking weak.  The only thing worse than being a target, was appearing weak.

He had already inadvertently witnessed what happened to those who were weak.  He'd come across a group of fifth-years harassing one of his classmates.  He hadn't stuck around, not that he didn't want to help the other kid; he just didn't want to become a second victim.  The boy had ended up in the medical wing for a week, of the assailants, only two had been identified and punished, the other three were never caught.

That was the way it was, don't get caught, and don't tell tales.

Within those bounds… anything could happen.  Bren thought the instructors were privately pleased when students were able to get away with transgressions, even assaults.  There had been two stabbings in the fourth-year dorm this semester alone.  Apparently, the fourth-years were an exceedingly violent bunch.  Of those stabbings, one had resulted in the death of the student; the other one was able to identify his attacker.  The perpetrator was currently spending a two-week sentence down in the 'pit'.  No one who hadn't been in it really knew what the 'pit' was, and those who had been there never spoke of it.  But when they returned, they looked like death warmed over.  It was said the experience would haunt you for the rest of your life.

Bren himself had gotten into minor trouble a couple of times already, most of the first-years had.  Not all the rules were explained to them, and often they only found out about a rule as someone broke it.  He'd gotten off fairly easy, light physical duty, in the kitchens or cleaning classrooms.  He'd seen what some of the harsher punishments were.  One of the head instructor's favorites, saved for those who talked back to a teacher and offenses like that, was a nice public flogging, usually at dinner.  Luckily that had only happened once so far this year.  Someone had yelled at a teacher and got 5 lashes for it.  In all, the experience really ruined Bren's appetite that evening.

One thing he'd learned, in Rosenkreuz, you obey the instructors… and watch your back.

The shower felt good, but Bren was in a less than pleased mood.  He wasn't close to anyone in his class, at least close enough to talk to, so he just let his mind run, carrying on his own internal conversation.  /Stupid, annoying, physical strengthening class… as if we don't get enough exercise running from classroom to classroom.  I hate gym.  We never do anything cool.  The other years get to do martial arts.  But no… not us… we have to go running outside in the middle of December, freezing our asses off.  At least I can run.  I feel a little sorry for the younger ones… it's not their fault they're smaller.  Not that I'm much bigger than most of them.  And that Warren kid… little backstabber.  Teacher's pet if ever I saw one.  And smug about it too… he better watch it or someone is gonna plan a little 'accident' for him./

Bren suddenly became aware of the fact that he wasn't alone.  Unlike the dorm showers or the big ones in the main facility, the showers down in the gym complex didn't have individual stalls but large communal spaces.  Normally, this wasn't a danger since they showered as quickly as possible to get to their next class on time.  But today gym had been the last class of the day, there were at least 2 hours till dinner, so Bren was taking his time.  He froze… letting the water sheet down his body and listened.  

A faint chuckle came from somewhere behind him.

Gasping, Bren whirled, bringing up his fists, he might not be the greatest fighter, but he wasn't going to make life easy if he was attacked.

"Good instincts."

"Crawford."

The older teen was standing in the doorway, towel wrapped around his waist.  He entered and casually flicked it off draping the cloth over a peg on the wall.  He turned and headed for the shower next to Bren.  

The redhead ducked his head back under the spray, face burning.

"Problems?"

"What?!  Ah.. no… no problems."

"Uh huh."

Bren finished his shower as quickly as possible and grabbed his own towel, drying off and wrapping it around him.  He swallowed and looked back at Crawford.  "I.. I'll wait for you… to walk back I mean."

"All right, I'll be done in a moment."

Bren shimmied into his clothes as fast as he could, and then studiously read a book as Crawford came out and dressed.  They walked back in silence, the American striding with the same cool confidence he always showed, the younger boy trying desperately to calm the confusion in his mind.  That night, the older boy slept on the other side of the room, his quiet breaths floating through the air, while Bren lay wide awake, his mind fixated on the image of Crawford in the showers.  /Why?  It's not like I haven't seen him changing before.  I don't understand.  Is it because he scared me a little?  No.  That can't be it.  I just can't get him out of my head.  Why can't I get him out of my head?… /  It was a long time before he fell asleep.

It was with much reluctance that Bren packed up his books and spare uniforms and prepared to move into the first-year dorms.  He would miss sharing the room with Crawford.  The older boy had been a great mentor, helping the awkward pre-teen with lessons and instructors and the first fumblings of his talent.  He would miss getting that soft shake in the morning to wake him up.  He would miss having someone to walk with and to talk to.

"You know… you're just going to the other end of the wing… It's not like you'll never see me again."

As always, Crawford knew what was going through his head.  "How do you do that?  Are you SURE you're not a tp?"

The American laughed.  "Oh I'm positive… you couldn't give me that gift for anything.  I just have a knack for reading people…"

Bren frowned.  "Am I THAT easy to read?"

"To me… yeah.  And that's not a good thing."

"Huh?"

"It means you're relaxed around me… you trust me… that's not a good trait in this place."

The redhead looked away, embarrassed.  "I know."

"Try not to get too attached to anyone here.  Not even your year-mates.  Do you know what the attrition rate is for this place?"

"No."

"At least one half of every class doesn't make it through to graduation.  At least half.  And those that do… are not the same people they were when they came in.  You'll discover this soon… the instructors… they aren't interested in you… as least the 'you' that came in that door.  They will break you all into tiny pieces and wait to see if you can put yourself back together.  Then they'll do it again, and again… eventually you start putting yourself back the way THEY want you to be.  And the ones who can't… well, once in that door… unless you graduate, you don't leave again."

Bren nodded.  He'd kinda figured that one out for himself, since those that left disappeared so suddenly.

"Forming attachments with other people, be they students, teachers, or workers, is inherently dangerous.  It's dangerous for you, and it's dangerous for them.  Don't let it happen.  Don't learn this lesson the hard way, Schuldich.  I'll warn you right now.  I know you're destined for trouble.  But don't let THIS lesson be one of those."

Bren sat on what had been his bed, and sighed.  "Sometimes… I wish I wasn't a tp."

"All of us wish we were normal at times."  Crawford came over and sat down beside him, a very unusual occurrence for normally impassive upperclassman.  He nudged Bren's shoulder.  "And don't worry too much.  You are going to get in trouble, a lot… but I 'see' you graduating."

"Really?"

"Really.  Course… you're gonna be a pain in everyone's ass till then, including mine…"  Bren grinned sarcastically.  "You better get going."

"Yeah."  He stood and picked up his bag.  Half way to the door he stopped.  "Crawford?"

"Yes."

"My name… it's really Bren."

"Brad."

"Huh?"

"Brad Crawford."

"Thank you for everything."

"We'll see each other again."

"Is that a prediction?"

"Of sorts…"

"Ah."  Bren walked out and shut the door behind him.


	4. Thinking Too Much

Rosenkreuz… sweet Rosenkreuz 

Chapter 4: Thinking Too Much

Sometimes it was hard to remember what his life had been like before coming to Rosenkreuz… the boarding school from Hell.  The routines were so monotonously the same that the days and weeks tended to blend together till all of a sudden, you realized a month or so had gone by.  Bren secretly thought this was intentional on the part of the instructors, making them lose their sense of time.  He wouldn't be shocked, it would be simply one stage on their quest to make the students lose themselves.  He refused to do that.  He was determined, he would not lose himself.

That may be easier said than done, he mused, watching the 'graduation' ceremony.  Seven-years who had completed their tracks of study were being awarded diplomas like any 'normal' school would grant.  He snorted softly, this school was as far from 'normal' as you could get, the Rosenkreuz campus of Tarterus U.  As he watched the procession, looking from one set of dead eyes to another, Bren glimpsed the future that awaited him.  Here they specialized in breaking students and then rebuilding them… their way of course.  One or two appeared to retain some glimmer of personality, among them was Crawford.

Bren still didn't know what to make of his mentor.  He felt certain… things when around Brad.  Things he didn't feel around others.  Feelings that confused and maybe even frightened him.  He couldn't put a name to these feelings, and since personal matters seemed to be a taboo subject between them, he couldn't even discuss them.  In spite of both of them knowing better, they'd become friends, hiding it under the guise of the relationship between first-year and mentor.  But now, Crawford was graduating and Bren had no idea what would happen.

"So… now what for you?  Are you leaving?"  Bren asked as he sat on Crawford's perpetually neat bed, watching the young man pack up his books.  

"Actually, no.  I've decided to do the additional training to become a field leader."

"Which means?"

"Which means I will have a year of advanced courses here and then I'll serve an apprenticeship in the field."

"And then?"

"Then I either get to start training my team or I'll spend time in one of the other departments.  They never give you a team right away so I'll probably work as an assistant instructor here or in recruitment/retrieval for a while."

"Ah."

"What about you?"

"Me?"

"Yes, have you chosen a track yet?"

"Not really.  I don't think I want to go the leader route… I don't know."

"They always need 'paths' in r/r, or there is Omega."

"Omega?"

"You'll learn about them next session."

"Hard to believe I've been here almost a year already."

"You're 13 now, right?"

"Ja.  You turn 17 yet?"

"Couple months ago."

"Ah."  Bren swallowed again.  Why did he always get nervous like this?  It wasn't as if he hadn't spent a lot of evenings in here.  Academically he had been well behind most of his year-mates… even the younger ones.  Brad had tutored him.  When he asked the American why, Crawford has said something to the effect that if the redhead failed it would look bad on him as well.  Bren just shrugged and accepted it; he had really needed the help.

He was suddenly very aware of Crawford sitting on the bed beside him.  He cursed that he still had his powers blocked except for the monthly training sessions; otherwise he would have been able to sense the man, no matter his distraction.  "Huh?"

"What's wrong?"

He stared down at his hands.  They had a week off between academic years.  He didn't like having nothing to do, gave him too much time to think.  "Nothing."

"You lie."

"What?!"

"Oh, don't worry, you don't give yourself away if that's what you're worried about.  At least, not to someone who doesn't know you well.  And I bet I'm the only one here who knows you that well.  So… out with it, Bren."

His green eyes opened wide.  Brad had only called him by his real name a couple times since he'd told him.  "I… don't know… really.  I just… fell something around you… that I don't feel with the others."

"What do you feel?"

"I... can't explain."  He realized Brad was sitting a little closer, near enough that Bren could feel the heat of the older teen's body.  The weather had turned warmer but the only concession their uniforms made was a short-sleeved shirt under the jacket instead of long sleeves.  It was well after 'official hours' so he had discarded his jacket.  Brad still wore his, although it was undone, hanging open, showing the blue undershirt stretched over a well-developed upper body.  He swallowed again, why was he noticing Brad's chest?

"You don't have to."  The American's hand came up to gently cup the side of Bren's face, drawing him closer.  He closed his eyes as Crawford approached.  Bren knew what he was going to do, and he didn't stop him.

Their lips met, almost tentatively, as if the participants in the kiss weren't entirely sure that this was a good idea.

This can't be a good idea, Bren's mind screamed, thinking of the possible ramifications of this event.  But Brad's lips were so soft on his own and he surrendered, melting into the older boy's arms as they wrapped around him, supporting him.  He felt Brad's tongue tracing the outline of his mouth and he gasped.  The American took advantage of his reaction to slip his tongue between the parted lips.  Bren moaned softly.

And then Brad's mouth was gone.  He pulled away and stood, moving back to his boxes and packing.  Bren just sat there, more confused than he had been before.  He lightly traced his lips with trembling fingers; they still tingled from the feel of Brad's warm mouth on his own.  He realized another area of warmth much lower in his body.  What was happening?

"Brad?"

"I'm sorry."

"What?"

"That shouldn't have happened."

"I don't understand."

The older teen sighed.  "I know… and that's why it shouldn't have happened."

"What do you mean?"

"Schuldich, I think it is best if you leave now.  I need to finish this and then tomorrow I have to move to a new room.  And if you leave now you will just make curfew."

"Shit.  Good night."  He dashed off down the hall and true to Crawford's word, just made it into his dorm before the curfew was called.  He didn't need to get caught out again.  The first time had earned him 5 strikes with a rod and a classroom cleaning duty, the second 10 strikes and bathroom detail.  A third offense meant 10 more strikes and short rations for a week.  He changed quickly and lay down listening to the chatter of his year-mates around him.  Curfew just meant you had to be in your dorms, lights out wasn't until later, especially since they were on break.  But he didn't participate in the conversation and card games going on around him.  He didn't like his classmates and they didn't like him.  Which was fine.

He lay facing the wall and found his fingers tracing over his lips again.  Why had Brad kissed him?  And why had it felt so good?  He'd never really been kissed before.  Bren dimly remembered a time or two when his mother, her Highness the Bitch-Queen of Berlin had kissed him on the cheek.  But that had been before his father ran out on them.  Before she started drinking and snorting and whatever else she did.  He'd seen other students kissing; mostly older ones in quiet out of the way places.  At first he had been surprised that none of the instructors stopped it, then he realized that in the scheme of things, a couple fifth-years kissing in the back hall wasn't anything to get worried about.

Brad had started it… so why did he act so cold afterwards?  Granted the American had apologized, but still, his tone, like ice.  Brad had started it… but Crawford had finished it.  Bren shivered slightly.  He didn't really like 'Crawford'.  That part of Brad was everything the instructors wanted, cool, collected, controlled.  Brad was warmer, maybe even kind, not something you wanted to advertise in this place.  Brad had only kissed him.  So why was he still worked up over it?  They had had a basic health class and the instructor had touched on something called puberty.  Maybe that was it.  Maybe that explained why he felt the way he did around Brad.  He sighed and forced his thoughts to the back of his mind… maybe he thought too much…


	5. Dreaming

Rosenkreuz… sweet Rosenkreuz 

Ch 5: Dreaming

/Same shit… different year./ Bren grumbled as the second-years were roused from their beds at the unholy hour of five AM.  Part of their duties included serving breakfast… everyday.  /It could be worse./ He mused, donning the oh-so-attractive hair net and taking his place with the other half-asleep servers.  /It could be bathroom detail./  As first-years they had been bounced around on a rotation, until Bren thought they'd done nearly everything.  The only areas they hadn't been in were the medwing, only healers worked there, the armory for obvious reasons since they hadn't been trained with weapons yet, and the 'Pit'.  Working in THERE was still reserved for punishment detail, usually your last warning before being CONFINED in the place.

He numbly served the morning's… offering to the residents in ascending order.  He thought it very clever, that way the higher up the hierarchy scale you were, the later you got to sleep, and he was definitely looking foreword to more sleep.  As usual, Crawford ignored him as he went by, making the redhead seethe.

/That jerk kissed ME!  So why is he giving me the cold shoulder here?/  As the last of the instructors moved through, Bren was able to grab some food for himself.  As a bonus for serving, or more likely to avoid a scheduling problem, they had the first period off.  At least they got their duty out of the way early, unlike the third-years who served lunch, or the fourth-years with dinner.  Grimacing at the slowly congealing lump of oatmeal mush in his bowl, he dumped his dishes and headed for the library… he still had homework to finish.

/Man… this hurts./  Bren whimpered mentally as he hobbled down the hallway.  He had been looking foreword to the martial arts training.  He should have known better.  It was less like training and more like an opportunity for the older students to beat up the younger ones… with the instructors' endorsement and approval.  He was of average height for his age, but thin and wiry, and as he found out painfully… prone to flight.

"Schuldich?"

He looked up.  A familiar face peered at him with a slight smirk of amusement.  "Crawford."

"What happened to you now?"

"Martial arts class."

"Ah, I understand.  My room's right around the corner, I have something you can rub into the muscles that should help."  Crawford turned around and walked away, not even checking to see if Bren was following.

/Arrogant bastard.  He just pops up and expects me to follow his every command./  But he still hobbled painfully behind the American back to his room.

"Sit down on the bed.  Where does it hurt?"

"Everywhere."

The older teen chuckled.  "Take your shirt off.  I remember what those first classes were like.  Of course… with MY precognition I could avoid most of the strikes."

Bren grumbled.  "Show off.  Hey, why wasn't YOUR power blocked?"  He jumped as Brad's hands came in contact with his shoulders.

"Relax.  Precogs are never blocked, too much of a chance they might miss something important.  Besides… it's such a… latent talent that it may be impossible to truly block without damaging the psi."  The American started to gently knead the tense muscles of his shoulder, the lotion he had applied tingling pleasantly.  Bren could feel his muscles starting to unknot.  Crawford worked first one arm, then the other.  The redhead watched him with curious eyes.  Weeks of ignoring… and now this?

"Do you have shorts on underneath?"

"Huh?  Oh, yeah."

"Then take off your pants and I'll do your legs."  Bren balked.  Brad rolled his eyes.  "We shared a room for six months."

"True."  He tugged off the loose fitting pants and laid back.  Bren groaned with relief as Brad's strong fingers kneaded away all the knots and tensions, some of which he hadn't even realized he had.  Crawford guided him to roll over on his stomach and worked on his feet.  Bren sighed as those hands returned to his back, more soothing this time, and his eyelids started to close…

_~ 'Maman?'_

_'Get away from me you brat!'_

_'Maman… what's wrong?'_

_'All of you… all of you… GET OUT OF HERE!  GET OUT OF MY HEAD!'_

_'What the Hell?'_

_'Johan… something's the matter with Maman.'_

_'Shut up, brat!  What's going on now, bitch?'_

_'Voices… voices… yelling… singing… screaming…'_

_'I'll make you scream.  You and that damn bastard son of yours!  You insane whore!'_

_'DON'T HIT ME!'_

'MAMAN!!' ~ 

Bren snapped from tortured sleep to wakefulness as he heard movement.  It took a moment for his brain to catch up to the idea that this wasn't his bed.  This wasn't even his dorm.  He looked around in a bit of a panic, the remnants of the dream already fading.  His eyes finally settled on Crawford, sitting in a straight chair at the desk.

"I fell asleep."

"Yes, you did.  There's some food on the dresser, you missed dinner."  He didn't turn around, just continued to take notes and study whatever book he currently had open.

Bren sat up and found a sandwich, apple and juice waiting for him.  "Why didn't you wake me?"

"You needed the rest."

"I sleep every night."

"But not well."

Bren thought about it as he ate.  Crawford was right, though he would never tell the man.  He honestly didn't sleep well, no one did, not if they really wanted to stay alive.  But now he felt more rested than he had in a long time, even with the dream, which he couldn't really remember anyways… only that it was, unsettling.  So what did this all mean?

"You feel safe here."

"You sure you're not a telepath?"

Brad laughed at their old joke.  "If you're done eating, get out of here.  You've got homework to do."

"If I don't go I won't get done?"

"Exactly."

Bren grumbled and stood to go.  "Thanks."  Brad just nodded, not looking up even as Bren closed the door behind him.


	6. Sorting and Thinking

Rosenkreuz… sweet Rosenkreuz 

Ch 6: Sorting and Thinking

It was hard.  Getting used to Crawford not being around.  They hadn't seen each other very often… but he'd been there.  If Bren had needed someone to help him with his homework, someone to listen to him, someone to gave advice when it was wanted and a swift kick in the rear when it was needed.  Now… that someone was gone.

Bren was well into his third year at what the students lovingly called 'RosenHELL'.  /Lovingly…/ he snickered, /yeah right./  He was currently engaged in sorting laundry, a never-ending process that only paused for mealtimes… and sometimes not even then.  On occasion if someone racked up enough demerit points for minor transgressions, they got stuck on laundry detail for a day or so… with short rations.  Usually after a couple days of picking through smelly, dirty, and generally foul clothing, students were reluctant to end up there again.  It was Bren's third time this year.

He sighed and then coughed as the stench nearly overwhelmed him.  What the Hell were they doing with those first-years, that their laundry stank THIS much?  He really hadn't intended to get in trouble again.  Really.  But when that bitch…

/Okay, Bren… calm down or one of the 'watchdogs' is gonna pick up on it and you'll get in more trouble… you're pushing it as it is…/

Part of the third-year curriculum was one-on-one instruction on the uses of their powers.  His… instructor… was a nasty harridan who seemed to regard 'Schuldich' as her personal slave.  Their 'sessions' most often involved him cleaning her quarters or doing something else totally unrelated to the application of his powers.  Then when he was exhausted, which wouldn't take long since the students lived on the verge of collapse all the time, she would 'train' him by using forceful mind probes while he clumsily tried to block her attempt, with no real training on how to do it.

He hated her.

And that's where he had slipped up… so to speak.  Two days ago he had finally rounded on the bitch and told her exactly what he thought of her.  She had known before of course, having plucked it from his mind at their very first meeting, but in general such thoughts were ignored unless voiced.  Once voiced… she had grinned evilly and marched him down to the Head Instructor's office with glee.

Now… he sorted laundry for two days… with long hours and short rations.  He groaned as he heaved the current pile into one of the oversized carts and gave it a shove.  It bumped into line… the never-ending line as an empty one took its place at his workstation.  Another boy… second-year by the look of him, dumped a new pile in front of Bren and stumbled off.  The redhead watched the younger kid with a little sympathy; the boy was small and hardly able to lift the bins.  He sighed… and went to work… sorting the grays from the colors and tossing the damaged ones into another pile.  Someone else would go through those and determine whether they were worth mending or beyond repair.  The ones beyond fixing would be turned into rags, the mendable pieces fixed in another room and then they would end up back in front of Bren… to be sorted and cleaned and ironed and folded and put back into storage for someone to pick up.

They picked up clean (and mended) clothes at the start of the week.  Everything from skivvies and pajamas, uniforms and work-out gear, to overcoats and towels, was supplied by the facility.  With the exception of instructors and a few of the older students on internships, no one had anything of their own.  They didn't own their clothes, their supplies, their books, their rooms… the students joked that even their souls… all was owned by Rosenkreuz… and therefore, by Esset.

Ah… Esset.  They'd started THAT indoctrinenation in their second year.  The attrition rate for recruits disappearing in the night had slowed down… they'd only lost one so far this year, so they had started to be… informed about the world-wide organization that funded their education.  Bren thought of it more as brainwashing and ownership… but he was careful to bury THAT opinion very deep.  Otherwise… he wouldn't be on laundry detail… he'd be in the Pit.

The bell finally rang… signifying the end of the workday.  He straightened… back snapping, and stumbled toward the door with the rest of the herd.  Supper was long over of course… the only ones left in the cavernous room had been the ones on punishment detail.  Bread and watery fruit juice would be waiting for them in the dining hall… already served out so the portions were set.  When they said 'short rations' they weren't kidding.  There was none of the usual pushing and shoving; everyone there was far too exhausted for horsing around.  For some of the little ones, it was obviously taking all their remaining energy just to eat.  But they all ate what they were given… even if you didn't want to eat, you forced yourself.  Cause it took as much energy as you could muster to just survive in the place.  

When 'dinner' was done… the students dragged themselves off to their respective dorms, to quickly shower, another regulation though the water would be damn cold by now, and collapse into bed for a few precious hours of restless sleep.  Then, they would be woken, far too early, and start everything over again.  For the lucky ones… it would be classes and trying to catch up with what they missed, for the unlucky ones… back to the laundry.


	7. Think of the Consequences

Rosenkreuz… sweet Rosenkreuz 

Ch. 7: Think of the Consequences

It had been nearly a month since his last stint in the laundry.  He knew he was real close to having a more… lasting punishment imposed on him.  So he just grit his teeth and refrained from mouthing off to the bitch.  If she was disappointed by his refusal to rise to her bait, she didn't show it.  She did however start to actually train him.  Maybe that was the result of him ripping some things from her head while they were linked.  Anyways… the point was, she finally started doing what she was supposed to.

He was enjoying the novelty of being able to 'read' the other students' thoughts.  He knew better than to try that trick on the instructors.  Even if they didn't have powerful shields up, they would sense him… and that would be bad.  So he restrained himself to his fellow sheep.  He wasn't trying to 'actively read' them, as the bitch put it, not yet.  He was 'passive' letting what ever they thought come to him rather than try to pry stuff from them.  In general he found, as he rushed between classes, the younger ones and the 'reds' were easiest to read.  His fellow 'blues' often had shields of their own, of varying strengths, so he couldn't always 'read' them.  And the 'greens'… he didn't WANT to read them.  

The 'greenies' as they were called were all healers.  Individuals that could 'heal' were invaluable to an organization like Esset.  If one could 'heal'… it stood to reason that they could also 'harm'.  However, their inevitable ethics about using their gift in such a manner meant that maybe one greenie every five years or so was willing to do what they asked.  Since they refused to use their talents offensively… they were more or less shunned by the more 'powerful' upper echelons of the organization.  That 'shunning' trickled down of course, even to the trainee level.  It manifested itself in cruel pranks and sometimes outright brutality.  It was rare that a greenie made it to graduation without having ended up in the infirmary themselves.  As a result… the greenies were almost all 'broken' in some way.  Touching such a 'broken' mind like that made Schu physically ill, and he was always a little afraid once in he might not make it back out.  So he stayed away from the greenies entirely.  It was safer for his sanity.

He also wouldn't touch anyone who was just back from punishment in the Pit.  He'd done it once… and woke up the next day in the infirmary having no recollection of the previous 14 hours.  Since rumors flew quickly around whenever someone got into trouble, he had no difficulty know who to 'touch' and who to avoid.

His next instructor handed him a note.  The head instructor wanted to see him in his office after the evening meal.  That class, the political structures of the world, passed by in a blur, his mind on the strange note.  He pondered it through his 'activity' period and into the dinner hour.  What could the head instructor want with him?  He couldn't remember any MAJOR rules he'd broken lately.  He'd been lying low after that incident with the bitch.  Eventually… the meal ended, with the instructors only having to break up one minor scuffle involving a second-year greenie and a couple of fifth-years, a major fistfight in the fourth-years, maybe they'd kill each other off and save the rest of them the aggravation, and caught a bunch of first-years trying to sneak food out.  All in all… an uneventful dinner.

"Come in, Schuldich."  The redhead opened the door, the head instructor sat behind his desk sorting paperwork.  Bren relaxed slightly; it couldn't be THAT bad if the man had paperwork out.  "Come on… close the door."

"Yes sir."  He closed the door behind him and crossed the room to stand in front of the desk.

The man finished the paper he was reading and slipped it back into a folder, laying it in a bin on the side of his desk with a dozen or so others just like it.  He swept the rest of the paperwork into a pile and dumped it in another bin on the other side, and then he sat back and looked at Bren.  "You've been here for over two years now… what do you think?"

/Oh this HAS to be a trap./  "It's… interesting, sir."

The man laughed.  "Interesting… I'll have to remember that… very, diplomatic of you.  Perhaps you are learning to curb that tongue of yours."

"I'm trying sir."

"I'm sure you are."  The man leaned forward, his face somber, and perhaps… a bit frightening.  "You know Madame Buchard doesn't like you very much… do you know why?"

Bren shivered inside.  Buchard was the 'bitch'.  "No, sir, I do not."

"Indeed.  Then maybe what she says about you IS true."

"I can't answer that since I don't know what she is saying."

"True.  Let's just say… insubordination like you committed before is just the tip of the iceberg.  She can make a great deal of trouble for you.  You are merely a student here, and a third-year at that.  It is her word against yours… I'm sure I don't have to tell you that she would be believed over you… even if you were in the right."

"Yes sir."

"Good to see you understand how these things work, Schuldich.  However…"  His eyes glittered, and Bren was reminded of a snake about to strike.  "I COULD possibly intervene… if you can convince me what she says is false."

All the warning bells were going off now, this COULDN'T be good.  "What do you mean sir?"

The man smiled.  "I'm sure a bright boy off the streets knows EXACTLY what I mean."  Bren could feel the first 'fingers' of the man's powers insinuating themselves in his mind.  Against his will, Bren felt his body propelled around the desk where the head instructor was already unfastening his pants.  

No… no… NO!!!  Bren shrieked in his mind, even as he was ordered to kneel.  Too many memories flooded his head.  Other times when he'd barely escaped being raped on the streets.  Times when he had traded exactly what this man was forcing him into for money or food to eat.  He doubted the instructor would be satisfied with a 'quickie', this was probably a preliminary for something more… invasive.  "You're quite a pretty boy, Schuldich.  I've been watching you for a while now… be a good boy and you'll have anything you want…"

What he wanted was for this to STOP!  He refused to allow this to happen!  It couldn't happen!  

The man leered at him, lightly stroking his already erect penis.

It was sheer desperation.  That was the only explanation he could come up with later.  Bren gathered his admittedly weak powers and even as the man forced his head down on his weeping cock… the young telepath threw all he had into the man's head in one burst.  

Bren found himself on his back beside the desk, dazed.  Even as the instructor clutched at his head, swearing in half a dozen languages, he just lay there, unable to really move.  He felt warmth on his neck and lifted his hand to it… his fingers came away red, blood.  Herr Shultz was on the phone now… but Bren felt incredibly odd… like he couldn't care what was going on.  He blinked seeing the instructor's painfilled face in his line of sight.  The man was dabbing at this bleeding nose with a handkerchief.  "You've done it now, boy… in a week… you'll BEG me to let you do what ever I want with you."

When the guards came and lifted him upright… the sudden blood rush caused Bren to pass out.

TBC


	8. The Pit

Rosenkreuz… sweet Rosenkreuz Ch. 8: The Pit 

Bren awoke, confused.  He wasn't in his bed… he wasn't even in his dorm.  His head hurt terribly.  He was laying on a chilly, white-tiled floor, all he could see was a white-tiled wall about two feet from his head.  Pushing himself up on shaky arms, he shuffled over to the wall and sat back against it.  He cradled his aching head in his hands and waited for the most recent wave of pain to ebb.  When his mind cleared, he opened his eyes again and took a look around.

The room was only about five by eight feet, tiled entirely in white, florescent lights behind metal grates in the ceiling.  There was a narrow cot on the wall opposite and a toilet/sink contraption in the corner.  There was no window.  The door had no handle on the inside, only a narrow slot at the bottom that obviously opened from the outside, and a small viewing window covered with a grate that was also covered on the outside.  

That was it.  No pillow on the cot, no blanket, no table or chair, nothing on the walls.  

A cell.

That was the only thing he could think of.  He was in a cell.  He tried to remember what had happened… suddenly, as if a dam had burst forth, the memories rushed back.  The instructor… his office… the Bitch's complaints… the man unfastening his pants… and then… and then…

Oh shit!

The Pit.  He'd finally done it.  Taken him till his third year but he'd done something bad enough to land him in the pit.  With that realization came a sudden chill… his shields… were gone.

**

It had taken him a couple hours to get over to the cot.  He was curled up on it, his limbs shaking, but not from cold… from trying to keep everyone else's thoughts out.  He'd managed to cobble together some very rudimentary shields.  Paper-thin and flimsy as hell… but they were buffering some of the pressure.  The problem was… they were only there by sheer will… as soon as he stopped concentrating or fell asleep… down went the shields.  That had already happened twice.

He heard a rattle by the door, then an odd scraping noise, and a clang.  Sitting up, he saw that a tray had been slid through the slot.  Realizing suddenly that he was starving and probably dehydrated as well… Bran practically fell off the cot and scrambled over to the door.

On the tray was a small bowl of that… stuff they called oatmeal… wall spackle was closer.  A cup of water… and a note.  He tested the porridge… cold… which only made it more disgusting, but he tried to eat it anyways, he would need the energy.  The water in the cup was warm… actually the same temperature as the oatmeal, but again he drank it… he didn't need to get dehydrated on top of everything else.  Only then did he touch the note.

-Schuldich,  Enjoy your stay.  When you are ready to accept my offer, I'll be waiting.  Just tell the guard when they check on you.  Herr Schulz-

Bren shivered in the warm room.

**

He discovered there was no way to turn off the light.  No window… the meals served erratically… no reference for time.  But the screams… the screaming went on all around him.  He couldn't actually hear them… the walls and door were mostly sound proof… but the mental screaming.  Bren didn't know what was happening to the other inmates in this corner of Hell… but their agony was tearing at his mind, eroding his hastily created shields… drawing him INTO their pain.

He tried to focus on other things, the few truly happy moments he'd had.  His favorite toy car he'd had as a boy, a red fire engine… his birthday party when he was five… rooming with Brad…  He tried to fix those images in his mind, so he would have some protection when he slept.  He knew he couldn't hold off sleep forever.  Even as that thought entered his mind, his exhausted body shut down.

And the nightmares began.

**

How long had he been in here?  It seemed like forever.  Had it been days, weeks, or merely hours?  Someone nearby was loosing their mind, mumbled gibberish filling the space where thought should be.  But was it someone else?  Or was it him?  Was he loosing his mind?  Or was it already gone?  

No!  NO!!  Concentrate… the fire engine… red, metal, the wheel on one side that got broken when I stepped on it.  It hurt, remember?  My foot was cut but Maman put a bandaid on it and it was fine.

Screaming… muttering… pain… I'm so tired let me sleep I want to sleep I want to escape let me out of here LET ME OUT OF HERE!  More pain, my pain, no… other's pain, other's thoughts, other's fears…

The birthday party… I was five.  Dieter and Henrik came over.  We had chocolate cake and there were candles on it.  We went down to the park and played hide-and-go-seek till they had to go home.  Dieter gave me a new pack of baseball cards… and he hadn't even taken the gum out.  Henrik…

FUCK!!  What the Hell are they doing to that kid?  Focus… focus…

Henrik… he gave me a couple of his army men, the cheap plastic green kind.  I knew he only had a dozen or so left.  We used to play with them when I was allowed to go over to his place.  We took everything down to the park.  I broke the gum in three pieces and shared it and we puzzled over the baseball cards.  None of us could read yet, though Dieter could sound out the names for us.  Then we played hide-and-seek.  Henrik won.  He always won.  I was too hyper and Dieter was too clumsy.  

Oh God oh God oh God… I can't do this.  I can't keep them out.  Crawford… Brad… what would he do if he were here?  Well, he WOULDN'T be here for one… but he'd be cool, calm… not letting them see his distress…

Cool… calm… 

That's not me.

Under the harsh lights, Bren could hear himself screaming…

TBC


	9. Services Rendered

Rosenkreuz… sweet Rosenkreuz Ch. 9: Services Rendered 

It was a very pale and shaky teenager that returned to the third-year dorm.  Eyes haunted, he picked up his bag and made his way to the showers.  He brushed his teeth till his gums bled, then washed his trembling body till the water ran cold.  Stumbling back to his bunk, he collapsed across it.  Dinner was now being served… but he didn't feel like eating.  Wrapping a blanket around his shivering form, he tried to sleep.  

He thought he'd be able to rest.  His shields were back in place and at full strength, he was in his own bed, there were no screams or ever-burning lights.  But he couldn't rest… not with those memories still so fresh in his mind.  Against his will they played over… and over… and over…

**

_"Ah, Schuldich… have you reconsidered my offer, boy?"_

_He tried to pull away from the hand cupping his jaw, but the man was expecting the move, and merely smiled.  _

_"Still so stubborn… I wonder how long can you hold out though… no shields… why I bet you know exactly what I'm thinking… here… I'll let you see…"_

_He reeled away from the images that filled his mind.  The depth of the man's perversions was sickening.  And yet could he possibly stay another night… another day… _

_He couldn't do it anymore.  He was losing any sense of self he had left.  He would NOT loose who he was… not to this bastard… not to them…_

_As if sensing his internal debate the man stroked his cheek.  "Do you agree to my terms, Schuldich?"_

_Reluctantly, he nodded._

_Schultz knocked on the door and instantly a pair of guards came in and hauled Bren to his feet.  He was practically dragged out of the building and across the yard after the head instructor.  He concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other… his mind still struggling to stay afloat in the sea of churning thoughts and emotions that washed over him.  He was dropped to his knees and winced painfully.  _

_Raising his eyes, he found himself exactly where he had been before… in the head instructor's office.  The man was seated behind his desk, watching Bren intently._

_"Well, well… here we are back where we started.  Now… I believe you have something to do… a service to perform… Unless of course you want me to throw you right back in again._

_Not that.  Anything but that.  He couldn't handle the Pit… not again.  Pushing himself up on shaking legs… he managed two steps before collapsing again.  _

_"Crawl."_

_Face red with shame… Bren dragged himself across the floor.  He rounded the massive desk and halted before the man, sitting back on his heels, eyes on the ground._

_"Much better.  See how much easier this can be for you."  He stood and Bren could hear the rustling of cloth.  Schultz sat back down and then rolled his chair closer to the kneeling boy.  "Look up."_

_Green eyes lifted.  The man had unfastened his pants, pushing them down to reveal his large member, already stiff and weeping.  He was sitting back in his chair, at ease, and gestured to his groin.  "I think you know what to do."_

**

Scrambling from his bed, he barely made it to the toilet before retching violently.  It was several minutes before he could get his insides under control and he leaned against the cool porcelain.

He dry heaved again and then started to sob.  The man had made him suck him off not once but twice… doing paperwork in between and forcing him to kneel at his feet like a dog the entire time.  When he'd finally restored Bren's shields and let him leave, it was all the teen could do to walk back to his dorm without collapsing in the hallway.

He could hear his year-mates returning and struggled to pull himself together.  They couldn't know.  They couldn't EVER know how close he was to falling apart.  If they found out… he might as well paint a target on his back, cause everyone would be out to get him.  Gulping back his tears, he forced himself to his feet.  He washed his face and hoped they would think the puffiness around his eyes was from his time in the Pit.

The room fell silent when he entered and he could feel the eyes following him, calculatingly as he crossed the room to his bunk.  

One overly brave or overly stupid classmate approached him from behind as he turned down the blankets.  Not knowing what the kid's intention was, he grabbed the hand that fell on his shoulder and spun in a move they'd been taught, wrenching the other boy's arm and pinning him on the neighboring bed.  Everyone else halted their approach, he'd been right… they had been ready to jump him.

Hardened bits of jade glared at them… and they eased back, going about their business.  Schuldich wrenched the kid's arm one more time for good measure eliciting a choked off sob of pain, then let him go.  He climbed into bed and turned his back on the room.

It was only after lights-out and the breathing of his roommates was even and slow… only then did he give in to the silent tears that quickly wet his pillow.

TBC__


	10. Loophole

1 Rosenkreuz… sweet Rosenkreuz  
  
Ch. 10: Loophole  
  
Jade eyes that had grown harder and ever more cynical examined another year's worth of new recruits. /Idiots… all of us./ Bren turned away from the herd in the courtyard and walked through the fourth-year dormitory. As they were now considered 'upper classmen' they had nicer accommodations. Not the private rooms they would have as sixth-years, if they lived that long, but they now had screened off cubicles… that while they didn't have doors, were more private. At least he didn't have to share a bunk with anyone anymore. If you were on the bottom… you had to hear every creak and groan of the bed on top of you… and if you were on the top… the snores drifted up.  
  
He watched a pair of second years scuttle past him trying crawl into the wall almost. He had acquired something of a reputation in the last year. There seemed to be a zone around him that people didn't want to cross, at least fellow students. Even his seniors seemed to avoid him. All because he'd nearly killed the last two kids who tried to touch him. Bren snorted, fools. He wouldn't ACTUALLY have killed them… too many witnesses. Which had been the point. No one got near him now… except Schultz.  
  
He purged the thought of the man from his mind before he lost his lunch. Didn't he have somewhere to go? Oh yes… shooting range.  
  
His class had finally been deemed mature enough; he had to restrain from laughing, to be taught how to use weaponry. They'd already received a couple years worth of hand-to-hand combat training, and had started with basic non-projectile weapons. But this year… this year they were being introduced to guns. It was considered mandatory for everyone to have at least a basic knowledge of how to operate a handgun, for self-protection if nothing else. Psis were regarded with fear and loathing in many parts of the world, and it was always possible that an agent would need to protect themselves. But if you wished to go beyond basic knowledge… there were the intermediate and advanced levels… each more intensive. He'd heard the training was rigorous, grueling even. You would be required to recognize, maintain, and use nearly every common handgun, rifle, semi and fully automatic weapon from around the world. The courses required nearly as much bookwork as time on the shooting range. Graduates of the program were considered to be on par with any of the major military academies in the world.  
  
He wanted that knowledge. But probably NOT for the reason the instructors intended.  
  
Many psis scoffed at learning how to use what they called mundane weapons, relying on their 'gifts' for their protection. They were idiots. More often than not… use of powers was a hindrance, and there was always the chance that your talent might not work. But a gun. A gun that you've maintained and know inside and out… that you've used for hours… Now THAT was something to rely on. Powers were great, lots of fun, useful… but not the 'sure' thing that many regarded them as. And… gifts wouldn't always work against someone who was MORE powerful than you. He'd learned that lesson. Learned it hard. And kept learning it at least twice a month.  
  
Schultz seemed to regard him as his personal property. The bitch too. He'd tried every mental technique he'd been taught, and even a few he'd figured out on his own. But they never worked. The bonds on his mind were just too tight. It had taken awhile for him to discover them. The coercions were clever, brilliant even. They had been imposed on the students when they'd arrived… in that very first meeting with the psis at the registration desk. It was there that the mental fetters were locked in place… after they had barely gotten in the door. From what he could tell… they were simply the psis equivalent of brainwashing, loyalty to Esset and Rosenkreuz, obedience to your instructors, that sort of thing. But they prevented the students from using their powers with any real affect on the teachers. Didn't seem to affect the staff though, as Bren had discovered when he'd tested the theory on that janitor in the science hall. Only the instructors. Only the damn, controlling your entire life, sadistic as hell, instructors.  
  
But in a flash of inspiration he'd realized one very important thing about those mental bonds.  
  
They couldn't stop a bullet.  
  
TBC… 


	11. The Straw and the Camel's Back

Rosenkreuz. sweet Rosenkreuz Part 11: The Straw and the Camel's Back  
  
He picked himself up off the floor of the shielded practice room, panting rapidly and rubbing his throbbing head. He struggled back up into the chair he was 'generously' allowed to use and glared at the woman sitting calmly across from him.  
  
"Not too successful, was it?" She made a notation on her ever-present clipboard. "I don't know about you, Schuldich. So much potential. you're just not applying yourself."  
  
/I apply myself, you bitch. you don't teach./ He held no hopes that she didn't hear him. but his mental comments were generally ignored.  
  
Sure enough, she smiled smugly. "Let's try it again. shall we?"  
  
**  
  
Agony. That was the only word that could describe the feeling in his skull. Normal analgesics did nothing for him anymore. He was reduced to conning a greenie out of some serious painkillers, or stealing them from the infirmary. That was a dangerous prospect all the way around. Stealing from fellow students was like anything else. ignored as long as you didn't get caught. Stealing from the instructors or the school. the punishment tended to be harsh. His last stint in the 'Pit' had lasted five days, and unlike his first trip there, he was included in the 'corporeal punishment'. He doubted some of the scars would ever disappear completely.  
  
"Schuldich." He looked up to see on of his classmates. what was his name again. Luke. Lucas. something like that.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Message for you. from Schultz." He tossed the innocuous note onto the redhead's bunk and walked off.  
  
Bren glared at the small white bundle of folded paper. With a sigh, he picked it up, his name scrolling across the front in flowing script. He opened it. as he expected. He crushed the paper in his hand. How did the man know when it would be the worst time to call him? He flopped back on the cot. He had considered not going before. But he was a little afraid of what would happen if he did refuse. It was infinitely easier on him if he cooperated, he didn't enjoy the experience certainly, but at least he didn't come out of that office on a gurney.  
  
He could hear the rest of his year-mates leaving for dinner. They knew better than to ask him. He would either come or he wouldn't, but he didn't socialize. After the room and hall had been quiet for about a quarter hour, he forced himself to rise and get cleaned up. Schultz wanted his presence at a private dinner in his office.  
  
Life really sucked.  
  
**  
  
It couldn't be. but did anyone else exude that same air of smug confidence? Did anyone else have black hair so meticulously combed? The man shifted, and Bren was positive. Brad. It could be none other. He mentally checked his schedule. Nothing for the next two periods except for study hall and a free session. The man didn't seem to be too busy, seated in a small lounge reading a newspaper.  
  
Hands in his pockets, Bren checked for others, visually and mentally, then entered the lounge.  
  
"About time you came in."  
  
He should have figured the man would have known he was there. Probably before he'd even walked down the hallway. "Nice to see you too."  
  
The American folded his paper, laying it aside. "Well. you're still in one piece."  
  
"More or less."  
  
"A little less than before I think." Bren just shrugged. "Just remember. you ARE going to graduate."  
  
"Do I want to?"  
  
The older man frowned. "I won't be able to use you if you don't."  
  
"Gee. I feel so loved." He sat back, resting the back of his head on the top of the couch. "They use me. you use me. he uses me."  
  
"He?"  
  
/Oh shit. why do I open my big mouth./ "Nothing."  
  
"Schuldich."  
  
"It's nothing I can't handle." He didn't hear anything from the other man, finally, curiosity got the better of him and he opened one eye. Brad was outright scowling at him. "What?"  
  
The American sighed. "Nothing. just. nothing. I'll be around for a while."  
  
Bren sat up straighter. "Really? What are you doing?"  
  
"R/R. Recovery and Recruitment."  
  
"Oh, lovely. so you get to track down the hapless sheep they bring in here, huh?"  
  
"And retrieve runaways."  
  
"Runaways? Has anyone ever gotten out?"  
  
The precog looked at him, an odd expression on his face. "Not often. but it does happen from time to time."  
  
"Ah."  
  
**  
  
"You're pathetic. a fourth-year and you STILL can't block me? And you're supposed to be a strong telepath."  
  
She went on and on, belittling him and his abilities. Bren could barely even comprehend what she was saying; his head was ringing so badly. He just lay on the floor and let the words roll over him. He hated that bitch. He wished she was dead. He wanted to fry her brain. wait. she was a tp. not a tk.  
  
"Now... you would probably make some progress if I tutored you in the evening. What do you say, Schuldich?"  
  
If he could have, he would have rolled his eyes. She was trying to seduce him? Like he'd ever want to be with a whore like her. He knew she was routinely fucking the other two telepaths in his year alone. not to mention the other years.  
  
Wait. him. going to HER quarters. where there were no cameras. no other students waiting. no supervision. No body check.  
  
"When?"  
  
He wished he had his eyes open to see the expression on her face.  
  
"Ah. tonight? Say. ten?"  
  
He rolled over and got to his feet. He hoped his slight bow was appropriately servile. "I will be there."  
  
"I'm so glad you are finally coming around. Tonight then." She breezed out the practice room.  
  
Bren made his way back to the dorm. /Oh. I'm definitely coming around./  
  
**  
  
Five minutes to ten. A student slipped down the hall containing the instructors' suites. In a shadowy alcove, he quickly checked his weapon, attaching the silencer and loading a bullet into the chamber. Normally he wouldn't carry it around like that. but he would only get one shot. If this didn't work. he would either be dead, she would fry his brain, or worse yet. he could end up as one of the 'experiments' they housed over in the 'Pit'.  
  
Ten o'clock. He stood in front of her door.  
  
"Come in Schuldich."  
  
He walked in, closing the door behind him. He looked around.  
  
"In the bedroom."  
  
He walked to the door. She was displayed, that could be the only word for it, amidst a pile of silken sheets and pillows. The only light came from dozens of candles. A bottle of wine and two glasses sat on a small table.  
  
"Come in. come in. take off your clothes. make yourself comfortable."  
  
Bren took a deep breath, trying to keep his thoughts on his nervousness, what he thought of her 'attire', how afraid he was of her. nothing about his plans. /Don't think about the gun. Don't think about killing the bitch. Don't think about how that. lingerie. makes her look more like a prostitute than a./  
  
He turned away; ostensibly to remove his uniform coat. he reached into the holster under his arm.  
  
"I'll pour the wine."  
  
He turned around. Her back was to him. He took aim on her head and felt the calm fall over him. His shooting instructor was always very impressed with his ability to focus on his shot.  
  
She started to turn.  
  
Her eyes widened and he could feel her mental fingers in his head.  
  
He felt the weapon recoil.  
  
Blood sprayed out in a graceful arc.  
  
He calmly redid his coat and left the way he had entered.  
  
TBC 


	12. The Wisdom of Discretion

Rosenkreuz. sweet Rosenkreuz Part 12:The Wisdom of Discretion  
  
"Not very smart, Schuldich."  
  
Bren looked up from his book, one eyebrow raised languidly. "What do you mean?"  
  
Brad's frown deepened and he jerked the redhead to his feet. "Come on." He led the way swiftly through the halls, pausing when others would have crossed their path, until they were in the American's private rooms, with no one the wiser. He very nearly slammed the door behind them and rounded on the younger man. "I mean that little stunt last night."  
  
The German blinked. Of course Brad had known it was him last night, the real question was, did anyone else? He'd been jumpy all day, though his anxiety never showed on the outside. Every time he'd seen someone from security he thought they had discovered who had done it and were coming for him. But the day had dragged on and nothing had happened. Without waiting for permission, he seated himself in one of the chairs in the American's suite. "What 'little stunt'?"  
  
Brown eyes widened and Brad sank into the chair opposite him, speechless. After a moment he removed his glasses, polishing them on the corner of his shirt, he shook his head and looked at Bren incredulously. "You are actually going to get away with it. with that attitude of yours, unless they do a scan, and without her I'm not sure they can, they will never be able to tell it was you."  
  
"I still don't know what you're talking about."  
  
He replaced his glasses and just looked at Schuldich. "If you are worried I'm going to turn you in if you tell me, don't be. You are far too useful to me to let you become some scientist's guinea pig. But if you want to play that game, fine. Short form, one of the most experienced tp trainers, someone of your acquaintance I believe, was shot dead in her private quarters. Since the instructors' wing is not patrolled, there were no witnesses."  
  
Bren leaned back, relaxing slightly. "Suicide?"  
  
Brad snorted. "Dead center of her forehead? Not likely. It was the right caliber for the standard issue gun used by nearly every student on this campus. In addition, a silencer must have been used since the residents across the hall didn't hear a thing."  
  
"And you think it was me?"  
  
"I know it was you." Unyielding brown eyes stared into cynical jade. "And further more, I'm not criticizing you for doing it; your timing was poor however."  
  
Bren huffed looking away. "I never said anything."  
  
"And neither will I. Just don't do it again. At least. not without consulting me first."  
  
"Whatever, can I go? I have class."  
  
"Sure." Bren rose and headed for the door. "Schuldich. take care. I may not have been the only one to have figured this out, and even if nothing happens now, that doesn't mean there won't be repercussions later on."  
  
The redhead paused, his hand on the knob. "You see something?"  
  
"Not yet. and I'm not perfect. Remember that."  
  
"Fine, O Wise Oracle. I'm going to class." He walked out and shut the door on Brad's scowling face. ~Your face might freeze that way you know.~ He grinned at the mental silence behind the door, then turned and walked away.  
  
**  
  
His initial glee at his success was short lived. Rumors floated wildly about the hallowed halls of Rosenkreuz. She certainly wasn't the first death within these walls, or even the first instructor. She WAS however, the first to die without any clues. He had very carefully removed the bullet from the wall, knowing that ballistics testing might have led back to his gun, and therefore to him. He'd disposed of it with all the other bullets used on the shooting range, by tossing it into one of the scrap metal bins, after he'd cleaned it of course, to be sent away and melted down with all the others. He'd been careful to clean his gun that night, like he did every night, regular maintenance was insisted upon by the instructors in his classes. He'd worn his shooting gloves, which in addition to containing his fingerprints of course, was also used frequently enough that traces of gunpowder were expected, not unusual.  
  
But as the rumors flew he spitefully wished he could claim the kill. He wasn't the first student she had screwed over, and he certainly wasn't the only one glad she was dead.  
  
The rational side of him said to be happy with what he had, be thankful that she was gone. That was Bren.  
  
But the other side. the one that wanted to walk into Schultz's office and claim his kill with a sneer for the dead bitch. That part of him scared him a bit. That was Schuldich.  
  
TBC 


	13. Welcome to Berlin

Rosenkreuz. sweet Rosenkreuz Part 13: Welcome to Berlin  
  
In retrospect, he was a little surprised at how easy it had been. Since the bitch was dead, the only tp he couldn't block or confuse was Schultz. And since Schultz only concerned himself with Bren when he wanted to 'play' with him, the man effectively ignored him. The other instructors were child's play for him to redirect, the guards. what a joke. And none of his classmates would have said anything, even if they had seen him. He'd killed another student a couple months ago, his 'seniors' tried to instill proper respect in him. it backfired on them. He'd gotten caught, but since he'd been able to prove self-defense, had spent only a single night in the 'Pit', for actually killing the other kid, a waste of materials in the instructor's opinion.  
  
But he was starting to feel constrained within the walls of Rosenkreuz, even more so than before. He chaffed at the restrictions. He was getting tired of playing their games. Jumping through hoops for their amusement. he wasn't a dog to be ordered around that way. There was no one here who could effectively contain his growing powers, not even himself. His shields were wearing thinner and thinner, and he had no idea how to fix the problem. By now, shielding should be unconscious. but he was forced to concentrate on them everyday. If he invested enough time on them in the morning, then he would be okay for most of the day, with only light reinforcement towards the end of the afternoon. But, if he happened to forget, or not have sufficient time. his shields would start to get holes and it would be a great effort to keep out the dizzying influx of thoughts from around him.  
  
So when the opportunity had presented itself. just a moment. when security was distracted by a student gone insane. the instructors trying to deal with the rogue tk. the students watching in varying degrees of amusement and horror. he. was gone.  
  
**  
  
He was glad that as a fourth-year, they were occasionally taken outside of Rosenkreuz for brief forays into the outside world. More to acclimate them for their future occupations than as a reward for their work. The important result of this, in addition to knowing how the train and bus systems worked, Bren had a set of 'street clothes'. They weren't anything great, just a pair of jeans and a green tee-shirt, but they were better than that uniform, which would have stood out too much. He had gotten his bandana back last year, he wasn't allowed to wear it in Rosenkreuz, but they had returned it. He used it to cover his flaming hair, knowing that it was like a beacon. In the clothes and with the sunglasses he'd filched, he looked like any other teenager wandering the streets of Berlin.  
  
His one regret was that he didn't have much in the way of money. To be honest with himself. he didn't have any. He couldn't afford to return to how he'd fed himself before. Begging and snatching food was fine when you were a kid, if you were cute enough or pathetic enough, you could usually convince the owner or authorities to let you go. Especially if you cried. He was a little old for that trick. If he got caught, it would be a quick trip to jail, which of course would mean Esset would find out and he would be right back where he started, in Rosenhell.  
  
He knew his options were severely limited. He stood on the street corner, watching the cars drive by.  
  
"Hey!"  
  
Bren turned, a few steps away stood another kid, maybe two or three years older than him in torn jeans and a shirt with the sleeves ripped off. He could just see the edges of a tattoo peeking out around his shoulder. "Eh?"  
  
"Haven't seen you around here before. you new. or just going through."  
  
The redhead shrugged. "Not sure yet."  
  
"Ah. You got anything?"  
  
"Nope." Bren returned to watching the people move by.  
  
"If you're interested. I've got a little business proposition for you. show up here." He handed a slip of paper to Bren. "After two. then we'll talk." Without another word he turned and walked away. The telepath looked at the address written on the paper. then stuffed it in his pocket.  
  
**  
  
"Nice of you to come. My name's Hans by the way."  
  
Bren tried to keep from snorting. /No it isn't./ he thought, but he didn't say anything about it. He might need that information later. "Schuldich."  
  
"Schuldich?" The kid shrugged. "Whatever. Follow me." He led the way through the technically closed but still packed bar to a narrow stairway at the back. He pointed to a side door. "From now on if you come back, use that door, it's always locked, but someone watches it. Up here." At the top of the stairs was a hallway with three doors on either side. At the end was the bottom of another stairway going up. Hans opened the first door on the left and walked in, letting Bren follow or not as he wished. Scanning the room quickly, he determined it wasn't a trap and entered. Hans was already sitting on a rather decrepit couch; he waved Bren to the chair opposite. "Sit if you like. How old are you?"  
  
Bren settled into the chair, lounging in a way that he knew would piss off the other kid. "Old enough. depends on what you want?"  
  
"Good answer. You been out here. or did you just run away from mommy and daddy?"  
  
"Does it matter?"  
  
"Yeah it does, cause I need to know whether to waste my time with you or not."  
  
"I've been out here before, a couple years ago."  
  
"Ah. got thrown out again?" Bren didn't answer, and after a moment Hans shrugged and went on. "Whatever. What I need to know is how much you are willing to do for food and a place to stay. and maybe even some extras."  
  
"Extras?"  
  
"Whatever you want. Smokes, drink. other, how shall we say. recreational substances."  
  
"Dealer?"  
  
"No. but I do have a certain access to things."  
  
/Liar./ "You don't do this out of the goodness of your heart. What would I have to do for it?"  
  
"Good. you know the game. How much you get depends on what you're willing to do." His eyes trailed up and down Bren's body and the telepath knew exactly what the other one was talking about.  
  
He sat back and thought about it. It wasn't as if he was a temple virgin or something. Schultz had effectively ended that fantasy. Would whoring himself for food be any different than whoring himself for safety? At least here he would have to know what the other one was 'thinking'. He met Hans' muddy-brown eyes. "You want to whore me out? In exchange I get food and a place to stay, certain 'extras', and a part of the take."  
  
The kid growled. "Well, I wasn't going to give you part of the take. but since you already know how this works I suppose I can make an exception for you. You get a room up stairs, but don't bring clients here. you do, you're out. You get two meals from the kitchen downstairs, if you want to eat up in your room you take it up yourself, we don't have room service. You can use the shower once a day; clients tend to like clean whores. You let me know when you want any 'extras'. At the end of the night you bring all the money you made here and we divvy it up. Got it?"  
  
"Got it."  
  
"Okay. It's too late to find you a corner tonight so this time the room's on me. this will be the only time. You get sick or mugged or something, you don't get any money till I get paid back. If you need a doctor sometime ask me, then pay back. Bottom line is. if you ever want to leave. don't get hurt or sick. You don't pay up. I've got people to track you down. Understood?"  
  
"Yup."  
  
"Okay, Schuldich. welcome to Berlin."  
  
TBC 


	14. Vacation's End

**_Rosenkreuz… sweet Rosenkreuz_**

**_Part 14: Vacation's End_**

*message to rikkali-  You heard this was abandoned?  No… just on hold while I moved to Japan and got access to internet again.  I don't abandon fics in the middle… it may take me a while to finish them, but I don't abandon them!*

It had been a little over a month since he'd left the joyous confines of Rosenhell.  Bren posed on his 'corner' waiting for clients.  He tossed his cigarette into the gutter and watched the early evening crowd.  It was in fact a little TOO early for the types of customers he was waiting for.  But he would rather be out here then in that den of depravity that he lived in.  Hans himself never touched the drugs he pedaled to his employees, but he subtly encouraged their consumption.  Bren found his coworkers' thoughts became even more chaotic with the addition of the drugs, so he preferred to absent himself from their presence.  The only options were to stay away or get stoned himself.

Now Bren had nothing against taking a little 'holiday' from reality… but he restrained himself to times when he didn't have to work.  Working while high was NOT a good idea.  Clients tended to cheat you and you were likely to end up dumped in a gutter, possibly dead.  No drugs while working.

After work… well, THAT was a different story.  And speaking of work… a car was slowing down as it approached his corner.

**

/Hmmm… not bad…/  He pocketed the bills and left the hotel room.  /Wish I had more 'customers' like this one… tourists are usually the best./  This one had taken him to a decent hotel, not far from his usual haunts, got him something to eat, and didn't even try to cheat him.  The one drawback had been that the man reminded him of Brad…

/No!  I'm not going to think about him… I'm out of there… I'm going to STAY out of there… and I'll never see Brad again!/  

He jumped eagerly into the next car that slowed for him.  Desperate to get all thoughts of the American out of his head… 

**

/Oh shit oh shit oh shit…/  Bren clutched at his head.  /I knew there was a reason I didn't do that crap…/  With supreme effort he forced the other thoughts out of his mind and behind the hastily erected shield.  It took far more energy than it should have, and far too long… but finally… silence.  The redhead groaned and uncurled from the pained fetal position he's woken in and stretched out on the narrow bed.  /Fuck…/  He reached over the edge of the bed for his cigarettes.  He wasn't sure what Hans had given him last night, but the aftereffects sucked.  Last night however… he smiled slightly around the cigarette he was trying to light with shaking hands.  Last night was wonderful.  He didn't know what 'normal' people felt like on that drug, but for him… quiet… blissful, total quiet.  

He'd been able to go into the club downstairs and enjoy himself without the headache.  He found he liked the club.  Especially the dancing.  For some reason, he seemed to have been graced with some talent, judging by the appreciative looks he'd received.  He liked the attention, females, males… didn't matter to him.  He danced and flirted with them all.  But he especially liked taunting Hans.  The older guy had been watching him all night, with a look of undisguised lust.  He'd been trying to get the redhead alone in a corner all night.  Bren hadn't been entirely comfortable with the looks, but Schuldich.  Schuldich liked 'playing' with the man.  Teasing him with his body, with the way he moved, but always from a distance.  And then at the end of the night, he'd slammed the door in Hans' face.

Now that the shaking in his hands had quieted, Bren decided it was about time he got some food.  It was mid-afternoon already, and he had to 'work' in a few hours.  He dressed and left his box of a room, at least it was private if not spacious.  Hans' door opened as he passed by.  The young man glared at Bren.

"I'd like a word with you."  He sounded pissed.

"I'd like to get something to eat."  Schuldich drawled in a tone guaranteed to further anger the man.

"Now."

"You don't own me."  Hans' scowl deepened.  /Oh, please.  You have a LONG way to go to match Brad… or anyone 'there' for that matter./  "I'm going to eat.  Then I will come back up, alright?"  For a second, Bren really thought Hans was going to blow… then he huffed loudly and nodded.

"Fine… but don't go out tonight without seeing me.  I've got a job for you."

**

He knew this was a bad idea from the moment he walked into the room.  Hans had shoved the piece of paper with the address on it with a smirk, saying only that 'Schuldich' had been requested.  The address was in one of the better areas of town, that SHOULD have been his first tip-off.  His clients rarely came from the 'good' areas of town, and if they did, they certainly didn't take their entertainment back there.  His second clue should have been the guard at the door.  Sure the man hadn't been wearing a uniform or anything, but his stance, his attire, everything just screamed bodyguard.  And still Bren had gone in.  

/Stupid stupid stupid…/  He tried to maintain that 'smart-ass' air that he knew just pissed off everyone, his one defense when nothing else was going his way.  It was either that or turning to run and Schuldich didn't run.  He had known Hans would find a way to get him back for turning him down last night… but he didn't think the man would have stooped to this level.  He grimly started to undress.  The three men were leering at him, one of them fondling a riding crop.  He just knew it was going to be a very long and probably painful night.

**

He watched impassively as the punk bounced off the wall and fell to his knees, blood gushing from his nose.  "You ever set me up like that again Hans and I'll rip your fucking balls off, got it?"

The blond pushed himself to his feet, glaring murderously at Schuldich.  "What the Hell are you talking about?!"

"That 'job' you had for me last night.  I don't do shit like that.  You do that to me again and I'll fucking kill you."

"I didn't know…"

"Spare me.  You knew and you fucking set me up."

"What?  You think you're a damn mind reader now?"

/If only you knew…/  "Don't push me… you won't like what happens to you."  Schuldich turned to walk away, then stopped.  "And if you actually pull that knife on me, I'll kill you right here and now.  NOONE owns me… least of all a punk like you."  He sensed the kid's shock and knew it was enough to let him get out of the room safely.  It would take a little while before Hans could collect himself enough to think about dealing with the situation.  But Schuldich was serious, that brat set him up like that again and he'd kill him.  Painfully.

He yanked off his soiled clothes and waited for the water to warm up in the shower.  He hurt.  He hurt in places he hadn't hurt since the first time Schultz had used him.  

/Three of the sick bastards…/  

He stood under the spray, hissing at the sting in the welts on his back.  The one had been fairly free with that riding crop, and though only a couple of the strokes broke the skin, he knew his back was a mess of welts and bruises.  He didn't even want to think about what they had done to make his ass this sore.  Shit… he was actually bleeding.  They hadn't even paid him all that well.  He wondered a bit how much they had paid Hans.  Maybe he should go back down and demand some of that as compensation.  Maybe later.

Right now…

Bren sank down to sit on the floor, not caring that he was using up all the hot water.

Right now… he had a few nightmares to push away.

**

"Pathetic."

It took a lot of effort to roll over to look at the man standing beside his bed.  It had been a really shitty week.  First Hans setting him up with those bastards, and he hadn't been able to do anything besides blowjobs for a couple nights which didn't pay nearly as well, then he'd had to spend an evening standing in a cold, driving rain for next to nothing.  So last night when the opportunity for a little, escape, had presented itself, he'd taken it.  It had been his first experience with heroin, and he was sure it wouldn't be his last.  It had been great at the time… but now… he wasn't sure.  If hallucinations of Brad were going to be a common occurrence, maybe he should stick to other drugs.

"Absolutely pathetic."

Bren grunted and went to roll back over.

"No… I'm NOT a figment of your imagination."

/Oh… shit…/

The redhead rolled back over to look at the older psi.  He did look surprisingly solid, not wispy like his hallucinations usually were.  /Oh fuck…/

"Yes... 'oh fuck'… and do you even realize you're projecting?"

He checked his shields, they were next to nothing.

"You've gotten lazy.  Whoring, drugs?  I thought you were smarter than this, Schuldich."

He rolled his eyes, the man was in full lecture mode.  "So are you here to yell me or do you have something else in mind?"

"Maybe I did give you too much credit… I'm here on business."

"Business?"

The American just glared at him, waiting for his fuzzy brain to catch up.  His brown eyes very cold.  

Bren shook his head, snatches of a conversation they had had a few months previous came back to him.

_"Really?  What are you doing?"_

_"R/R… Recovery and Recruitment…"_

_"Oh, lovely… so you get to track down the hapless sheep they bring in here, huh?"_

_"And retrieve runaways."_

_"Runaways?  Has anyone ever gotten out?"_

_The precog looked at him, an odd expression on his face.  "Not often… but it does happen from time to time."_

"Fuck!"  Bren scrambled to get up, only to meet Crawford's fist.  He fell back on the bed, dazed and nursing a sore jaw.

"Don't try to run… it'll only go worse for you."

"How can it get worse?!  You're here to take me back to that hellhole!!!"

"Do you think I'm here alone?  Use your brain, Schuldich, if you haven't fried it before now.  The whole block is covered, you try to run and they'll kill you."

Bren froze.  "I'm screwed aren't I?"

"Basically.  I do have to hand it to you… it took over a month for them to track you down, that's pretty good.  Noone's held out that long before."

"Joy… what do I win?"

"A one-way trip back."

"Can't you just shoot me now?"

Crawford crossed his arms, looking strangely serious, but not angry.  "Schuldich… Bren… I need you to come back, in one piece."

"Fuck you… you need me for whatever game you're playing, I'm not your pawn."

"Do you want to be their pawn for your whole life, as short as it might end up being at this rate?"

Bren looked away, the rage leaving his eyes.  "No."

"Then get your ass out of that bed, get dressed and come down with a bit of dignity.  Don't let them break you, and I promise… you will not be their slave forever."

He snorted.  "Sure… but what about tomorrow."

"You knew we'd catch you eventually.  If you're curious, it was that group you 'serviced' the other night, one of them is an agent.  It really was inevitable.  "

"I could dream couldn't I?"  Crawford didn't answer, just watched as he dressed and grabbed a couple of personal items.  "Hold on to these for me, will you?  I get the feeling I'll be losing anything I'm carrying with me."  

"Sure."

They walked out and down the hall, as they passed Hans room, the blond was standing in the doorway, smirking.

"Just a second."  Schuldich turned and grabbed the punk's head slamming it into the door frame, and then letting the motionless body fall to the ground.  Brad watched without changing expression then led the way down the steps.

"Did you kill him?"

"Who cares?"

**

TBC


	15. I'm Right?!

**_Rosenkreuz… sweet Rosenkreuz_**

**_Part 15: I'm Right?!_**

It was a much thinner and weaker Bren that left the 'Pit' this time.  He could barely walk, but he wasn't going to let anyone know that.  All conversation stopped as he passed.  He was something of a celebrity for now.  The first to effectively escape in a decade, and holding the record for longest on the outside before recapture.  Rumors were still running around as to HOW he had managed his escape.  Everything from digging his way out with his fingernails to taking out an entire patrol of guards.  He hadn't heard anything that remotely resembled the truth.  The students, and many of the instructors as well, eyed him with a sort of wary respect.  And not a little bit of fear.

So he'd pass the groups of students, without looking at anyone, and as soon as he was out of sight, he would nearly collapse against the wall, using it as a crutch till the next group he had to pass.  He couldn't let them see his weakness, or else he would be eaten alive.

He was nearly back to the fourth-year dorm when his legs finally gave out.  As he fell he braced himself for contact with the concrete and tile steps.  But that moment of expected pain never came.  He opened his eyes to see what was becoming a very familiar white suit.

"Crawford."

"Of course.  Can you walk?"

"Yeah."

"Liar."

"I can fucking walk!"

"As you wish."  The American let him go and Bren promptly fell on the steps.  Growling, he hauled himself up by the handrail and forced his legs to propel him the rest of the way up the staircase.  He leaned against the wall for a moment to catch his breath.  He couldn't 'feel' the man beside him, but he knew he was still there.  He always wondered by Brad was so hard to sense.

"So am I supposed to go back to my dorm or do you have another destination in mind for me?"

"It's been decided that you require a little more 'supervision' than the usual student.  So you get to have a roommate again."

"Oh joy… let me guess, you're my new babysitter?"

One hand grabbed the front of his shirt and slammed him back into the wall.  Bren grunted as the contact aggravated his injuries.  "Be glad that it's me.  You have no idea how many strings I had to pull to do this.  I had to call in some favors I've been holding on to for a long time.  This has seriously compromised my position and career here.  You screw his up and I'll throw you to the wolves.  Are we clear on this?"

"Yes."  The redhead staggered a bit as the American released him.

"I believe you know the way to my quarters.  I'll be waiting for you there."  He walked away without looking back.

**

His training resumed the next day, as he limped from class to class, struggling to keep up after being absent from classes for over a month.  Fortunately he was on the inactive list for physical training or he never would have been able to maintain the charade.  He was totally exhausted as he stumbled down the corridor at the end of the day and opened the door to Brad's and now his quarters.

"Sit down and take off your shirt, I want to check your back."

Bren was too tired to argue and just sank onto the couch.  He fumbled with the coat of his uniform, grunting with pain as he removed it and then his t-shirt.  The cushion dipped behind him as Brad sat as well.  Cool fingers, that had been so rough with him in the hallway yesterday, were surprisingly gentle as they undid the bandages covering the lash marks underneath.

"A couple of these need to be cleaned."  Bren just grunted his acknowledgement as the American rose and left the room.  "It might be easier if you lean forward against the back or arm."  

"Okay."  He couldn't help but shudder slightly as Brad knelt behind him.  This was a very compromising position to be in, one that Schultz would have taken full advantage of.

"Relax."  

Bren inhaled sharply as the warm, damp cloth made contact with the raw wounds crisscrossing his back.  He knew it was necessary however, infection would not be good.

"I still think you should go to the infirmary about some of these."

"No."

"Schuldich…"

"If I do that… everyone would know within a couple hours.  Then I'd be fighting them off right and left."  He could hear Brad's snort.

"Unfortunately… you're right."

"I'm right!  Mark it on the calendar… Brad Crawford admitted I'm right!  OW!"

"Stop moving around."

Careful hands spread the numbing antiseptic over the newly cleaned wounds.  Bren sighed as the stinging faded, but the hands didn't leave him, instead sliding up to knead the tense muscles of his neck and shoulders.  "Brad?"

"Shhh…"

It was several minutes later when the American rose from where he'd been kneeling.  "You should go to bed, Bren.  You have a lot of catching up to do.  I can help you with the class work for a couple weeks only."

The redhead yawned and pushed himself to his feet.  "Why only a couple weeks?"

"Cause then I'll be sent away on business.  You'll be on your own till I get back.  But that will be during the one week break between academic years, so as long as you stick to the rooms you should be fine."

/Unless Schultz sends for me…/  "I'll be okay."

"Just don't get in any more trouble this year… you've used up all your free passes."

"I know."  He watched the American walk away to dump the bloody water.  /I know Brad.  You really stuck your neck out for me this time.  Why?  What's so important about me that you would risk your own skin?/

**

TBC


	16. Look what followed me home

**_Rosenkreuz… sweet Rosenkreuz_**

**_Part 16: Look what followed me home…_**

Boredom was a real bitch, Bren decided.  Brad had been gone for almost a week.  He had worked the redhead relentlessly for the couple weeks that he had been there, getting the German caught up on all the classwork he had missed.  It had really sucked.  When he wasn't in class… he was STILL in class… Crawford's, and he wasn't sure which was worse.  He was almost grateful when he had been taken off the physically inactive list.  It hurt to go to his fighting classes, but it was better than the American's relentless studying.

The end result was, that when Crawford had left for his 'business' trip… Bren was completely caught up.  And therefore, had absolutely NOTHING to do during the week he had off.  Nothing to do, nowhere to go since Crawford had basically forbidden him to leave their quarters, and no one to even talk to.  He had entertained himself for a couple days by riffling through the minds of his fellow students, it was a good way to keep track of all the plots and alliances and secret dealings that were part of the daily life of Rosenhell.  But reading students' minds got rather tedious and boring after a while.  Once he was caught up on the 'gossip' there really wasn't much point in staying in contact with teenagers, they were for the most part annoying with varying degrees of cruelty, perversion, or fear to round out the headache.  The staff wasn't much better, except without all the melodrama, and he knew better than to attempt to scan the instructors again.  They were on their guard against him now and he didn't really want to antagonize them since he still wasn't totally recovered from last time.

Last time… Bren shuddered.  Too many more trips to the 'Pit' like that and he wouldn't recover.  He would be broken… or he would be dead.

He sighed again.  Bored.  He'd read anything that WASN'T a textbook already.  Nothing was interesting enough that he wanted to read it again.  Music was something he put on for background noise, listening was not something he actively did.  Besides, Brad didn't have any 'good' music anyways.  He wasn't in the mood to doodle, he wouldn't call what he drew art.

Finally, he resorted to pacing, his hyperactivity needing an outlet.

When even THAT became boring he resigned himself to watching whatever he could see from the window.  The door opened behind him.  He didn't turn around figuring that his highness already knew that he was bored and frustrated, there was no use mentioning it.  "About time you got back."

"I told you a week."

"No you didn't.  You just said you had a 'business' trip."

"Actually, I DID tell you.  Apparently you weren't listening."

"Whatever, you're back now."

He heard the man walk into his bedroom then drawers opening and closing.  "Not for long.  I have to attend a conference."  

"Lovely.  Well, at least classes are starting."  He wouldn't turn around and let Crawford know how much he didn't want to be left alone again.  That was a weakness… one did NOT show weakness in Rosenhell.  The American had seen him be weak enough already.  

"Been bored?"

"You already know the answer to that, asshole.  Next time you do this, at least get me some decent reading material before you go."

Footsteps, then a quiet chuckle.  "I'll keep that in mind.  But I doubt you will be bored for now.  I've got a job for you."

Bren finally turned to look at the American and stared in surprise.  "What the Hell is that?"

"The reason for my 'business' trip.

"THIS?  What the fuck am I supposed to do with that?"  The American gave the creature a shove in Bren's direction.  The younger man was barely able to catch the little thing as it tripped over it's own feet.  Crawford was hefting his repacked suitcase and already heading for the door.

"Watch your language. Take care of him, he'll be your teammate.  The name is Naoe Nagi, by the way."  The door closed behind the man.

"Well shit."  He muttered for a while about how infuriating the man was then felt the boy pull away from him.  He heard a soft sigh and looked down.  Huge, midnight-blue eyes that seemed too old, and maybe even a little fearful, stared up at him from a face that was far too thin to be healthy.  What clothes he was wearing were rags, stained and torn.  It was obvious Crawford had made some attempt to clean the child up, but hadn't been completely successful.  "Well kid, I guess it's you and me."  The boy blinked, confusion flitting across the otherwise mask-like face.

"Do you speak German?"  The child didn't react, just looked up at him with those wary eyes.  /Guess not… let's try something else…/  "Do you speak English?"  Nothing.  "Parlez-vous francais?"  He sighed.  /Crap… I'm out of languages./  He gestured for the kid to follow him and headed for the bathroom.  At first he didn't think the boy was going to come, but when he was half way across the room he heard the shuffling of small feet and the child appeared at his side.  He ran water into the bath making sure the soap, shampoo, and a towel were within easy reach.  Then he left the boy to wash up.

He stared at the contents of his dresser.  One of the benefits of living with Crawford was that he had his own room, complete with decent furnature.  /Damn that kid is tiny… I don't think I have anything that will come close to fitting./  He finally dug out a pair of cutoff sweats that he used for phys ed in the summertime, glad that he'd had them washed last week, and an old faded blue t-shirt.  He wasn't sure what his kid's talent was, but for now the color didn't matter.  He walked back into the bathroom, pleased to see the child scrubbing away at the accumulated grime and left the clothing on the counter.

He wandered into the kitchenette, wondering if there was anything decent he could feed the child.  Deciding that in all likelihood, the boy wouldn't care as long as it was edible, he just grabbed stuff.  By the time he saw the kid hesitating in the door to the bathroom, he had a simple meal ready and on the table.  He waved the boy over and into a chair.  Bren was hard-pressed not to smile as the kid climbed up, and was so short that he had to kneel in the seat to be high enough to eat easily.  He watched those beautiful eyes widen at the food in front of him and he looked up as if asking if it was really all for him.

This time, the redhead did smile, and sat down with his coffee in the other seat.  As the kid ate, he let his mind skim the boy's gently.  The child, this Naoe Nagi… his mind was unusually ordered and focused for a boy his age.  He couldn't be as young as he first appeared.  Bren had thought the kid only about 6 or 7, but his mind, his thinking processes were too advanced for that.  He had to be around 9 or 10, and if he was… he'd probably never had a decent meal in his life.  He didn't probe too deeply, not wanting to disturb the boy, but caught enough around the edges to get a general impression.

Coming back to himself, he noticed the kid was practically nodding off in his chair.  /Poor kid… must be exhausted./  He got up and stretched, then picked up the boy.  He was alarmed at how little the child weighed and the fact that he could feel bones far too easily.  He went and laid the kid down on his own bed, tucking the covers in around him.  The boy blinked up at him sleepily.  Feeling oddly paternal for a moment, he lay a hand on the still damp chocolate hair.  He sent a wordless feeling to the kid and was rewarded with a slight smile.  Then those midnight eyes closed and the boy was sound asleep.

Now he knew why Brad had brought the boy here, instead of taking him right to the new recruit section.  Without being able to communicate, Bren still didn't know WHAT language the boy did speak, and with the poor condition the kid was in, he would be a lamb to the slaughter.  The American seemed to be able to contort the rules into a pretzel when he wanted to… and this child must be something special for him to do so.  

/Crawford said he would be my teammate… I wonder… /

TBC…


	17. Adoption

**_Rosenkreuz… sweet Rosenkreuz_**

**_Part 17: Adoption_**

Something was bothering him as he tried to convince his body that it would be nice to go back to sleep for a little while.  He only had a few more days before the new academic year started and he wanted to take full advantage of the opportunity to sleep in.  Especially since Crawford wouldn't let him.  But anal man wasn't here… he was at that conference.  And why was he on the couch?  Jade eyes finally opened as he resigned himself to the idea that he wasn't going to get any more sleep.  There was 'something' he was supposed to do.  What was it?  He heard a faint rustle, like cloth; and sat straight up searching for the intruder.

All he saw was a small figure sitting beside the door to his bedroom.  The boy looked at him with frightened midnight-blue eyes.  "Sorry, kid… didn't mean to scare you."  Although he was sure the boy didn't understand the words, his carefully gentle tone was enough to calm the child.  Bren had learned through several years in the dorms that startling psis wasn't a good idea, especially if you didn't know what type of psi you were dealing with.  "What are you doing sitting there?"  The kid scrambled to his feet as Bren approached, but the redhead just ruffled his too-long chocolate hair as he passed by heading into his room.  He was surprised to see that his bed was already made, as if the kid hadn't even slept in it, so the boy had been up for a bit.  He was probably hungry, and if he wasn't, he should be.  It would be good to get the kid used to the idea of regular meals.  Deciding to forego the shower he'd intended to take, he headed back out into the living area.  The boy was sitting beside the door again.  "You know… you can use the furniture."  He sighed at the look of confusion on the kid's face.  He would have to figure out a way to talk with the boy soon.

/Breakfast… breakfast… coffee first…/

**

"So… how are you and Naoe getting along?"  Brad hung up his coat, and then walked in to the kitchen where they were eating dinner.  Well, Bren was eating; he wasn't sure about the kid who seemed to just be picking at the food somewhat awkwardly with his fork.

"Nice to see you, too."  He said sarcastically.  "We're coping."

"Try this."  He set a book in front of Bren and a small carton before the boy, and then moved to the counter, dishing up some of the casserole the redhead had made.

"German to Japanese Dictionary.  So the kid's Japanese?  Maybe that's why he keeps sitting on the floor."

"Yes… it also might explain his aversion to your cooking."

"HEY!"  He looked at the boy who had stopped pushing the food around on his plate and was investigating the contents of the container.  Brad sat down and started to eat.  Bren watched the kid pull something round out of the box.  "What did you get him?"

"Just a couple onigiri, rice balls.  But I figured he'd need something besides what you made."

"That's twice in two minutes you've insulted my cooking.  If you don't like it you can damn well cook for yourself."

"Watch your language."

"He doesn't understand anyways."

"You don't know that.  Besides, you need to get in the habit for when he will."

"Yes, dad."  He studiously ignored the glare, pulling the boy's untouched plate over and starting in on what he hadn't eaten.

"I'll go get some other groceries tomorrow; he might get sick from the diet change if we don't have some familiar foods for him to eat."

"I highly doubt he's eaten enough for his system to be USED to anything."

The older man frowned slightly.  "Is he THAT bad off?  I knew he was underweight but…"

"He's skin and bones, severely malnourished, his mind is that of a nine or ten year old but he's so tiny physically.  What are we going to do?  Classes start tomorrow, he's in no condition for what goes on with the first-years."

"There are trainers that speak Japanese."

"That's not what I'm talking about.  He jumps a foot if I move suddenly, what's he going to do with that herd in the courtyard?  Or worse with the chaos once he gets inside?"

"There are rules…"

"Which you've bent by bringing him here."

The twenty-year old frowned.  "Yes, if you would stop interrupting.  There are a few precedents for situations like this.  Everything will be done in our quarters until he is ready to join his class."

"So when do they start."

"In about 15 minutes."

**

Thank goodness he'd been there.  Their rooms were silent and dark now, it was late.  Bren was back in his own bed, very aware of the small, shivering body curled up next to him and clutching his arm.  Even asleep the kid refused to let go.  The boy had been terrified when the half dozen or so instructors and staff had invaded what had been their quiet abode.  Sufficiently frightened when the first man had grabbed his arm that things started to shake and fall over.  That was Bren's first indication that the kid was telekinetic.  The second was when the man holding the boy had suddenly staggered back as if from a blow.  Pretty good from a kid that that stood barely past his waist.   

If he hadn't stepped in at that point, it might have ended up nasty.  But he was able to calm the kid down.  Then the boy had latched onto his arm as if he had no intention of ever letting go.  Acknowledging the wisdom of the redhead's continued presence, everything was done with him in attendance.  Which meant that the 'doctor' who conducted the mandatory exam wasn't able to try anything.  Bren didn't like the man at all.  Rumors had been running around about that doctor and not about a friendly beside manner.

Needless to say, by the time they had left two hours later, the kid was stressed out and Bren was at the end of his rope too.  In such close contact, the boy's thoughts and feelings were bleeding over into his mind as well.  Especially if anyone else touched him.  Crawford had been no help of course, retreating to his room and not appearing again.  But at least now, the boy had clothes that fit, more or less, they just didn't stock clothes quite that small.  His hair was cut, making him look neater.  And despite his personal feelings about the physician, the boy had been examined by a doctor and the blood work would hopefully indicate any other problems the child might have.

He grimaced.  A week ago he'd been happy being a mind-twisting bastard.  Now he was some Japanese brat's adopted older brother.  He looked down at the small hands gripping his arm.  Well… Brad was right of course… at least he wasn't bored.

TBC

A reviewer commented that I wasn't updating fast enough… well the speed at which I update is dependant on several factors… a) my muse… if she isn't interested… NOTHING is getting done, faeries are like that you know… b) work… that necessary evil… I'm working as an Assistant Language Teacher at a small high school in Japan… they work longer hours than teachers in America and often have activities and stuff to do outside of school, since I've been adopted by the art club and the music club… that cuts into my free time… c) internet access… as in at home I don't have any yet.  But the application is FINALLY made out (it's all in Japanese I had to get someone to check it over for me) so hopefully I will be able to do some of this stuff from home in the near future instead of mooching off the school's LAN.  I'm sorry if people feel I'm updating too slowly… but I don't put a piece up till I'm happy with it… besides there are plenty of my favorite authors (no I won't name names… they KNOW who they are) that haven't updated in say a half year!!!!!  I still love them anyways… ^__^


	18. There IS a Heart

**_Rosenkreuz… sweet Rosenkreuz_**

**Chapter 18: There IS a Heart**

Bren looked at the clock again for the second time in five minutes.  Nagi was late.  While that wouldn't be odd for him, Brad said he'd be late for his own funeral, for the boy, this was highly unusual.

They had worked with the kid, well he had, Brad was away more than he was home these days doing recruitment, he had worked with Nagi for a month before their superiors deemed the Japanese boy was ready to attend classes with the others.  He still stayed with them rather than in the first-year dorms, Crawford had been able to get that much at least.  They had gotten him a futon, which he lay out on Bren's floor every night, and the boy seemed quite happy with the arrangement.  He didn't seem as thrilled with his classes, but that was more from his fellow students than from the studies themselves.  He seemed to like learning, spending long hours with his books in the evenings.

Bren wasn't sure how he did it.  The kid had obviously never had much of an education before now, and he was combating a language barrier, and yet he still managed to do well.  He seemed to be a sponge, soaking up mathematics and science like he was born to them.  And he was picking up both English and German at an amazing rate.  Bren's Japanese was coming along much slower.  The instructors were obviously overjoyed to have ONE student who was worth their time.  When he had commented on the subject, Crawford informed him that he would doubtless do better if he followed Nagi's example.  The redhead had promptly chucked a book at him.

/Where was he?/

He was starting to get concerned.  The brat was never this late.  It just wasn't in his nature.  Something had to have happened.  He was just about ready to go look for the boy when the door opened and closed quietly.  "It's about time."  The kid froze where he knelt beside the door, removing his shoes.  His head was bowed but Bren could tell… something was wrong.  "What happened?"  The boy didn't answer, just finished putting his shoes in the closet and then stood, hefting the bag with his books.  Bren noticed he was only using his right hand.  His face was carefully turned away.

"Brat?"

Growing impatient with the reticent boy, the redhead stepped over and grabbed the tiny boy's shoulder.  Nagi flinched, pulling away as if in pain.  Bren knelt in front of him.  "Nagi… look at me."  The boy's head lifted and the teen had a hard time keeping a lid on his anger.  The thin face was bruised, a black eye already forming, the cut on his lip still bleeding sluggishly.  "What happened?"  He took the bag, setting it out of the way, then just picked the boy up, carrying him to the kitchen and setting him on the counter.  He started to rummage in the small freezer for ice.  Nagi stared at the floor, not answering.

~What happened?~

~…~

~That's not going to work… and don't tell me you fell down.  Who beat you up?~

~I don't know…~  The boy's mental voice was timid; he hadn't sounded this insecure since his first couple days.

Bren held the ice pack to the bruised cheek frowning as Nagi hissed in pain.  "Hold that."  He dampened a cloth and started to dab at the cut lip.  ~You don't know what happened, or you don't know who they were?~  Given the number of telepaths and the boy's relatively shieldless state, it was entirely possible that someone had wiped his memory of the encounter.

~I don't know who they were.~

~Did you see them?~  A nod.  ~What did they do?~  The boy seemed to be favoring his left side, that arm hanging oddly.  Bren caught a flash of memory and growled.  ~They threw you down the stairs?~  A pause, and another nod.  "Shit."  He ran his fingers through the boy's baby-fine hair checking for a head wound.  "Did you hit your head anywhere?"

"Back."

There was a small lump but no blood.  He took the ice pack and moved it to the back of the boy's head.  "What else hurts?"

"Shoulder."

"Take off your jacket and shirt, I want to check it.  Is it dislocated?"  There was no answer but Nagi was obviously hurting on that side, he tried to ease the jacket off using only his right hand.  Bren finally set the ice down and helped him.  He looked at the red t-shirt, getting it off was gonna hurt like hell.  He dug through the junk drawer and finally found a pair of scissors.  Rosenhell could afford another shirt.  He cut up the left sleeve to the neck, then down the side seam pulling the now ruined shirt off.  "Can you turn sideways?"

The small boy struggled but managed to twist and still stay on the counter.  His arm hung limply.  Now that Bren could see his back and the shoulder blade he could tell something was definitely wrong.  Just at that moment the door opened again and he had to move fast to keep the boy from falling off the counter as he jumped.

"I've called for a doctor."

"Nice of you to put in an appearance."

"I didn't see it beforehand so stop complaining."  Crawford stepped forward and turned Nagi's face toward him checking the damage.  "I don't think you have a concussion."  He said peering into the boy's midnight blue eyes.

"What are we going to do?"

Brad picked the ice up and held it to the boy's face again.  "Have him looked at."  Then just to Bren, ~We'll find out who it was and take care of them.~

The telepath was surprised by the hint of anger in the twenty-year-old's voice.  ~Since when have you been so concerned?~

~Since they decided the mess with MY team.~

The redhead blinked, remembering when Brad had first saved him from that bully way back in his first year.  He'd been angry then too, controlled, and to all outward appearances calm, but angry none-the-less.  Now he watched as Mr. Anal-Retentive-Stick-up-his-Ass Crawford fussed over the little Japanese kid on the counter.

~So there IS a heart in there… somewhere…~

~Shut up… and go find some aspirin.~

**

He watched as Nagi was tucked into bed.  The shoulder HAD been dislocated, the doctor had simply pinned the boy against the couch, grabbed his arm, and without any anesthetic, forced it back into place.  He stuck the arm in a sling, told them the kid was on the physically inactive list and left.  Poor Nagi was fighting his tears on the couch and the two of them were seething.  There was no reason for such behavior, not that they should have expected anything different from a doctor at Rosenkreuz.  The medical 'professionals' Esset attracted were people that had either lost their licenses or should have and couldn't work anywhere else.  They weren't known for their comforting beside manner.

They had given the boy some aspirin; with his small size they didn't dare try anything stronger.  Then with him wrapped in a blanket on the couch between them, they pieced together the complete story.  How Nagi had finished his last class and waited for a minute to ask the instructor a question.  When he left the halls were empty till he reached the top of the stairs.  Three fifth-years were waiting there.  Nagi tried to slip by them but one had jerked his arm, spilling his books.  When he knelt to pick them up, another one had backhanded him across the face, and then the third had used his foot to shove him backwards down the stairs.  He hit his head on one of the cement steps and then landed awkwardly on his left arm and shoulder.  His tormentors had laughed as they stepped over him and left.  He gathered his books and walked back to their quarters.

Schuldich was seething; he had recognized the three faces he'd plucked from Nagi's memory.  They were known for picking on the younger students; especially someone like Nagi would was obviously the instructors' favorite.  It was suspected they had been involved in the death of a second-year greenie last semester.  His anger was spilling over into Brad's mind as the redhead tucked the blankets around the boy's shoulders.  The American stood back as Bren came out and closed the door behind him.

"So now what?"  Jade eyes glared at him.

"An official reprimand will do nothing."

"Than I do a little unofficial reprimanding."

"You're going to get caught."  Brad said with certainty.

"I don't care."

"Very well.  I'll stay here with him."  Brad watched as the irate redhead left.  /You're starting to grow up, Bren.  Or rather Schuldich.  I just hope you can make it through the next few years./  The American sat down on the couch.  There were times he really hated his 'gift'.  Nothing was for certain, but he had enough flashes to know Schuldich was only going to get into more trouble.  Hopefully being responsible for Nagi would help to tame some of his more impulsive actions.

He sighed.  But having him so close by wasn't helping him control his OWN impulsive desires.

**

TBC

I realized that I hadn't done anything from Brad's POV since the very first chapter… oops.  Oh well… I like writing from Bren/Schu's POV I guess.  And Brad was gone for a while.  I'll try to remember to include him more.

Brad: You just don't like me.

Yan: Well… that's not exactly true…

Brad: You made me be the Grinch last Christmas.  *evil glare*

Yan: Be nice… or you won't like what I do for Halloween.  *innocent smile*

Brad: Oh no…


	19. Vengeance

**_Rosenkreuz… sweet Rosenkreuz_******

**Chapter 19: Vengeance**

The halls of Rosenkreuz were perpetually in shadow, even when fully lit.  There was this overwhelming oppressive feel to the place, as if all the anger and pain and despair that these walls had witnessed over the years has sunk into the very concrete and tile, until the buildings themselves radiated the frustration and hopelessness of its occupants.  To those who were sensitive to such things, the structures themselves were sources of stress and pain.  You could always tell who was clairvoyant, especially the psychometrists.  They perpetually wore gloves, from the day they walked in the door till the day they left, otherwise everything they touched… it was a walking Hell to those who could 'feel'.  Some swore the walls spoke, crying out their tales of suffering and hatred till the listener became one with the insanity.  In buildings like 'the Pit'… this was certainly true.  The walls spoke.  The floors screamed.  The poison of it all seeped out into the very grounds so there was no place to escape.  It was a place of nightmares.

Another shadow, somewhat more substantial than the rest detached from the formless dark and made its silent way down the hallway.  One wouldn't even know the shade was there, unless able to sense the fury rolling off the figure.  But he made sure his shields were locked down tight, there was no way he was going to leek and possibly warn the trio that were his targets.

It was possible that he was taking this too far, but he wasn't about to let such thoughts hinder him.  It was far too late to turn back now.  Even knowing that he wouldn't get away with what he had planned didn't stop him.  There were times when foreknowledge didn't mean anything.  He was more than willing to accept the consequences.  There were always consequences, to everything.  Every decision, every move, every action resulted in a reaction of some type.  That was the law of the universe after all.  Well, their actions had resulted in this reaction, which would in turn have its own consequences.  That was just the way things were.

He slipped into the fifth-year dorm.  Here like the fourth-years, each student had their own cubicle, although these actually had doors.  He knew better than to think they had locks, on the inside; that was a privilege reserved for the sixth-years, for putting up with the new first-years.  He knew which door he wanted, having 'stolen' the information from the dorm master on his way over.  Each dorm had an adult that was 'in charge', more for doling out punishments AFTER the confrontation was over than for stopping such behavior.  Those dorm masters were the ones that made the room assignments, and therefore knew where each student could be found.  Pausing before the third door on the right, he 'scanned' the room.  One occupant, currently engaged in a rather stomach-turning dream involving himself and the rape of a young first-year greenie.  He snorted in disgust, even asleep the kid was a pig.

Slipping into the room, he drew the knife he'd 'liberated' from the kitchens earlier.  It wasn't really intended to be a weapon, but the razor sharp butcher knife was perfectly suited for preparing whole cows for the dinner table, it certainly could be used on one unsuspecting human.  

In retrospect, it was incredibly simple.  One quick slice, severing the vocal cords yet not doing enough damage to kill… not yet.  The victim woke of course; no one is likely to sleep though their throat getting cut.  But he was a telekinetic, and a fairly weak one at that, probably why he physically attacked others, out of jealousy; he wasn't telepathic and therefore unable to summon help.  The redhead leaned over him, pinning the bleeding boy to the bed.  The pain and panic were sufficient to prevent the tk from being able to focus his powers.  But there was anger, in his eyes, anger he couldn't voice, but it couldn't compete with the rage of his attacker.

"So you think it's funny to attack the weaker ones, huh?  I really don't care what the hell you do… but you made a critical mistake… you attacked him.  So now, to make sure no one else follows in your slimy footsteps… I have to make an example of you… nothing personal.  Actually it is personal.  You should have known better than to fuck with Nagi.  Now… you won't be fucking anyone…"

He made several deep slashes into the boy's torso, nothing that would kill him immediately, but enough to incapacitate him.  Unless someone happened to come along and check on him, not likely, he would slowly bleed to death in a few hours, unable to cry out or move.  A nice long, lingering process, leaving the fifth-year with plenty of time to contemplate what he had done and what awaited him.

He moved out of the dying boy's room, leaving the knife sticking out of one pierced lung.  Looking back as he closed the door, he was reminded of all those vampire stories, the ones where to stop them you had to stake the heart and cut off the head.  Oddly appropriate for one who had derived so much pleasure from other peoples' pain.

Down the hall a few doors was the room of student number two.  Checking it, he made a pleasant discovery; BOTH of his remaining targets were present.  And judging from their mental states… they had been engaged in some rather 'strenuous' activities.  He would have to change his plan a little, ah well, kill two birds with one stone…

He entered and sliding in past their pathetic shields, 'nudged' them both into a deeper sleep state.  One was a telepath, although much weaker than himself, the other a clairvoyant.  They were tangled up in each other, the sheets bunched by their ankles.  For some reason at the sight of the two of them an image of Brad flashed into his mind, causing a stirring in his body.  Unsettled by such thoughts at a totally inappropriate time, he put the American from his mind and examined his prey.  Decisions, decisions… In the end he figured it would be easier to manipulate the clairvoyant.  Spying a bladed letter opener on the desk he woke the telepath a little, not enough that he could break through the shields he had locked on the boy's mind, but enough to feel the pain.  It wouldn't do to have him die peacefully in his sleep… that wouldn't do at all.  With one smooth stroke, he sliced the boy's abdomen open.

Blue eyes stared up at in shock.  The telepath tried to attack as he had been taught, unfortunately for him; he was way out of his league.  Then the young man tried begging.  It was irritating, so the redhead calmly drove the letter opener through the base of his skull and into his brain.  The annoying voice stopped.  He made a few posthumous injuries to the boy's face, to make it look worse.  He regretted killing him so quickly, but that voice had been getting on his nerves.

As a final touch, he placed the letter opener in the other boy's hand, and then implanted a suggestion before he left. 

He dropped the bloody latex gloves in one of the biohazardous disposal boxes in the infirmary, where they would be incinerated with the rest of them and then gave a little 'wake up call' to the clairvoyant.  He swore he could hear the boy's screams as he awoke to find his lover dead, apparently by his own hand.  It hadn't taken much to convince the relatively weak-minded fool that he had attacked the boy in his sleep, the time-bomb he had placed in the kid's mind would 'go off' soon.  It would seem like the horror had broken his mind, making him act like a drooling vegetable for as long as Rosenkreuz kept him around.  Which probably wouldn't be long, in general such 'victims' of the facility would end up on the dissection table, for the scientists' ongoing research into the psi phenomenon.  They didn't always wait for the patient to die before beginning.  While the boy would seem brain dead, he was in fact quite alive, and would be aware as they gutted him.  

Since Crawford had predicted that he would be caught, word would get around that it had been him.  That should be sufficient to keep the sharks away from the brat.

In a dark quite corner of Schuldich's mind… Bren cowered.  He had wanted to hurt the ones that had attacked Nagi.  But this… he didn't like this… not at all.  

Another presence, so far undetected, watched everything… with malicious joy…

**

TBC

Gee... who could this be? Poor Bren, Schuldich is enjoying this a little too much, ne?


	20. The Penalty for Caring

**_Rosenkreuz… sweet Rosenkreuz_******

**Chapter 20: The Penalty for Caring**

Brad was still waiting up when he got back.  The precog didn't speak, simply handed him aspirin and water for his growing headache.  It had taken a lot out of him to maintain that cloak so no one detected his presence.  Brad watched him swallow the bitter pills, then nodded and disappeared into his own room, shutting the door firmly behind him.  He supposed he really wasn't in the mood to talk about what he had done anyways.

He took a quick shower, rinsing his clothes as well, just in case he had gotten any blood on them.  He didn't think they would check that closely, but it was better to be paranoid, it kept you alive.  Emerging in a cloud of steam with only a towel wrapped around him, he paused and contemplated Crawford's door.  He had a much better idea now what those feelings meant that he'd been having ever since they roomed together.  But now wasn't the time to do anything about it.  Crawford had made it clear that he didn't want company tonight; otherwise he would have waited out here.

With a sigh, Bren walked across to his bedroom.  He peeked in carefully.  Nagi was tucked into Bren's bed.  Tiptoeing to his dresser, he pulled out boxers and a tank top and dressed.  He stood over the bed looking down at the occupant.  The boy was curled up on his uninjured side, bruises showing black in the darkness.  He seemed dwarfed by the single bed he was so small.  With a gentle expression he would have never shown during the day, Bren brushed a few of the chocolate-colored locks away from the boy's face.

He stretched out on the futon.  He could have fit in the bed with the kid easily, but he didn't want to jostle that hurt shoulder in his sleep.  IF he could sleep.  He lay there for a long time, staring up into the darkness.

**

It didn't take long the next day for word to get around.  Two fifth-years were dead and one other was in the infirmary.  Rumors were flying.  They said the one in the infirmary had killed the other two…  That the boys had been killed by the instructors… That the ghost of one of their victims had come back for them… that one was very popular with the first and second years that had been the trio's main targets.  And then, whispered quietly in the back halls and behind closed doors… the idea that another student had done it.  No names were ever mentioned… but there seemed to be only one in the minds of those talking about it… Schuldich…

He could tell, in the way everyone kept an eye on him till he passed, how conversation would pause, how the first and second years would take care to stay out of his way.

A part of him… the part that was Schuldich, liked the attention.  He liked the way people avoided him.  He liked the fear he could see in their minds, and the power he had over them because of that fear.  For once HE had control.

Then there was another part of him, the part that seemed to be fading a little more each day.  Bren didn't like the attention.  He was afraid it would bring Crawford's promised punishment down on his head.  He had barely survived the last trip to the 'Pit' with his sanity intact… if he got sent there again…

**

He spent two very tense days, going to classes jumpy and tense.  Nagi and Crawford were the only ones who didn't seem to be avoiding him.  The small Japanese boy had heard what happened of course, and the rumors surrounding his redheaded roommate, but he didn't seem bothered by them.  In fact, he seemed to look at Bren with something like hero-worship in his normally guarded midnight eyes.  He had even started sitting next to Bren on the couch to do his homework rather than using the floor.  Brad was his usual cool self.  He didn't speak of what Bren had done for which the German was grateful.  Then the evening of the second day, Crawford abruptly left, not bothering to tell them till he was on his way out the door again.

Nagi didn't seem too upset by the American's absence; he spent much more time with Bren anyways.  After they had eaten, Bren was getting better cooking in a vaguely Japanese style; they were ensconced on the couch, the redhead half-heartedly reading his textbook and Nagi industriously working on his math.  The quiet was shattered by a knock at the door.  The boy jumped and Bren laid a calming hand on his shoulder.  He got up and went to see who it could possibly be.

"Yeah?"  Standing outside was an absolutely petrified second-year, part of their duties included running messages for the instructors.  The younger boy didn't speak just held out an envelope.  As soon as Bren had a hold of it, the kid took off down the hallway.  He snorted.  He didn't hurt those who didn't deserve it.  He shut the door and started to return to the couch, tearing open the message on the way.  As soon as he saw the handwriting he stopped.

He read the short message and started swearing in German.  He looked up and saw Nagi looking upset.  "It's not you kid…" he kept his tone light even though the boy was making stunning progress in learning their languages, sometimes he would get confused.  Bren sighed and tried to remember to speak slower.  "I have to go out for a bit, will you be okay?"  

"Hai."  The boy nodded.

"Okay, go to bed at ten if you're still up and I'm not back, okay?"

"Okay."

He shut the door behind him with reluctance.  /Damn Crawford and his visions…/  The American was occasionally wrong… not often but it did happen.  It just didn't happen this time.

**

The guard leered at him even as he opened the door.  Schuldich ignored the look, just sauntered by the man with an arrogant swagger, appearances were everything after all.  Nothing ever seemed to change in this office.  Not the plants by the window, not the pictures on the wall, not the mahogany desk with its neat piles of paperwork and files… and certainly not the man seated behind that desk.  Schuldich stopped in the center of the room and waited.  And waited.  He understood the psychological aspects of keeping the student, the subordinate waiting, forcing them to think, anticipation made the fear that much sharper.  But he had stood here many times… too many, and he was beyond such tricks.  He just rested his weight on one hip… and watched.

Finally the man set aside his file and looked up at Schuldich.  "Good evening, Schuldich."

"Herr Schultz."

Schultz reached for another file and opened it, scanning the contents.  "Two fifth-years dead, another a vegetable… oddly enough the three that were seen having an altercation with young Naoe.  Interesting coincidence don't you think?"

"Quite interesting."

"I don't suppose you had anything to do with it?"

"With what, sir?"

The man laughed, a dark and not overly friendly sound.  "I see… you maintain your innocence in the act."  Schuldich just kept silent, forcing what he hoped was an innocent expression on his face.  "Ah the games again… very well."  He closed the file and set it aside looking at the redhead with hard eyes.

"There is no evidence directly linking you with the situation, which means there will be no official charges or punishments."

Schuldich breathed an internal sigh of relief.  

"However…"  Schultz steepled his fingers and peered over them at Schuldich.  "However, I think we both know exactly how 'involved' you were.  I have to applaud your efforts.  No one saw anything, no one detected anything, it seems as if it was done by a ghost."  He smirked, obviously he had heard the first-years' rumor.  "Yes… you are to be commended… but there are still two students dead and another will be joining them shortly.  And I know that you are responsible."

Schuldich swallowed nervously, he was in deep shit.

"As I said… I can't punish you officially.  Which actually is a good thing; it would be a shame to have to terminate ANOTHER student.  Your Crawford," the man's voice twisted with bitterness, "can do nothing for you THIS time.  He has been called away and will not be back for a couple weeks at least.  He may have convinced the elders that you are essential for his future team, but he's not here right now, and you are still MY student."

Schultz stood and stepped around the desk glaring down at Schuldich.  "You have a choice… you will come with me tonight… and will submit to EVERYTHING I demand… or you can go back to your room."

The redhead blinked… what was the catch.

The man smiled evilly.  "The 'catch' as you say… is that your little pet will move into the first-year dorm where he belongs.  Once there, you won't be so… distracted by 'protecting' him.  I'll give you an hour to think of your response."  He waived Schuldich to leave, leaning back against the desk.  The young man could feel those hard eyes burning holes in his back as he walked away.  As he left, Schultz gave one more parting shot.  "Maybe Naoe will be more… agreeable in servicing me."

It took every bit of restraint Schuldich had not to turn around and attack the man.  Only the knowledge that if he did he could likely end up dead and then Nagi would have no one to look out for him kept him in check.  As it was, he gave the guard a stabbing headache as he passed watching the man collapse to the floor moaning.  He stomped out into the hallway and flung himself into one of the chairs there.  

He had no choice.  Nagi wasn't ready to be with the other students; hopefully he wouldn't ever have to be housed with them.  Crawford had already claimed the boy for his team, and since the American seemed to be in the elders' good graces, they were indulgent of his wishes.  But Schultz had absolute authority within Rosenkreuz, if he said the boy had to be in the dorm, he would be.  He was accommodating Crawford because he wanted to, not because he had to.  He obviously respected, perhaps feared the younger man, especially since the precog had maneuvered his way into the position of heir-apparent.  But Crawford wasn't here…

He had been warned.  He knew he would get caught.  But he had thought it would mean another trip to the 'Pit' or something like that.  He had never dreamed it would be this.  Schultz knew exactly how to blackmail him too.  "Fuck!"  A few bruises and a pair of huge midnight eyes had undone years worth of detachment and apathy.  He couldn't let that lecher get his hands on the brat.  Hell, the kid couldn't even fight back with his powers blocked the way they were.  Nagi was too young to have to deal with this.  He couldn't possibly leave this Hell innocent, but Bren wasn't going to let that innocence be ripped away so soon.

Taking a deep steadying breath, Schuldich rose.

He passed the guard again, who had managed to get to his feet, though his face was very pale, an unhealthy sweat on his brow.  He stabbed the man's mind once more for good measure and opened the door for himself.  Schultz was once again behind his desk, he looked up expectantly.  "And your answer, Schuldich."

"Yes."

**

Oh yeah… I'm evil… mwhahahahaha… Actually the reason I'm stopping here is cause I have to get ready to go.  My karate dojo is helping hand out water for the Hirado Marathon today.  I may not know a lot of Japanese, but 'Ganbatte!!' is one phrase I know.  It's going to rain though… -_-;  Oh well… I have my ugly bright yellow raincoat… it's not attractive, but at least I'll be dry.  Bright yellow coat, red hair… oh yeah, no one is going to miss the gaijin today!


	21. Pieces

**_Rosenkreuz… sweet Rosenkreuz_**

**Chapter 21: Pieces**

He was grateful that classes were in session, there was no one to see him struggling to get back to their quarters.  His legs just didn't want to obey him.  His mind… well, he just didn't want to think right now.  Cause if he took the time to think, he would never get back.  Being found in the hallway in this condition would not be good.  Being in this condition period wasn't good.  After what seemed like an eternity, he made it back to the corridor which housed their rooms.  What was normally a short walk, had somehow turned in to a marathon.  He swore some bastard had stuck a few MILES worth of hallway in that hadn't been there before.  Fumbling with the door, he fell into the room.  Without bothering to rise, he kicked the portal shut.

And collapsed.

There was no one here to see him, so he didn't bother trying to get up.  He hurt.  He hurt in places he didn't think it was possible to hurt.  He swore even the roots of his hair ached.  Then again, maybe they did.  He hardly put hair pulling past that sadist.  And the headache… that was nearly enough to make him want to kill himself.  He lay for a long time, just inside the door, sprawled out on the carpet.

Finally in time, the pain overrode his desire to not move.  Unable to fully rise, Bren crawled to the bathroom.  Whimpering, he pulled himself up to sit on the toilet.  Even that hurt.  One shaky arm reached for the medicine cabinet and the various painkillers there.  He hesitated… then reached for the small bottle containing something considerably stronger than aspirin.  He fought with the cap, it was the type that was supposed to be childproof, but only a child could open.  When it popped off suddenly, he fumbled for a single pill.  They were deceptively small, thankfully so, he downed it dry.  He set the top on but didn't secure it; he would no doubt be in need of more later.

With trembling fingers he started to remove his soiled clothing.  He let the garments fall to the floor one by one.  He never wanted to see them again; if he had a choice in the matter he would torch them all.  Once he was naked, he slid off the toilet to crawl over to the shower.  He turned it on flinching a bit at the chill; it took a long time for their hot water to kick in. Gradually the needles of water warmed.  Bren didn't try to stand, just sat and let the spray beat down on him.  He bowed his head, water trickling through his thick hair and down his face.

He felt used.

As agreed, he had let Schultz do whatever he wanted, payment for the man's silence… and Nagi's continued innocence.  He had been humiliated, beaten, restrained… throughout it all he had filled his mind with contempt for the man, letting that be what the sadist found.  Even when the good instructor had moved on to raping his mind as well as his body.  He wouldn't let the man sense any fear, only hatred and anger.  Fear was what Schultz wanted, fear and pain.  Pain he couldn't do anything about, but fear… that he could control, covering it was other emotions, burying it deep enough that it couldn't be found amidst everything else.

Pain was still very evident.  Staring down at the water swirling around the drain, he wasn't surprised to see that it was pink with blood.  He was sure he was bleeding from any number of places.  There would most likely be a few more scars to add to his collection.  His back felt it was on fire, he didn't want to think about the damage down below.

Eventually he couldn't stand the feeling of his skin being scalded and longer and shut off the water.  If he pulled himself up against the door to the shower and held onto it, he could just barely stand.  He snatched a towel off the rack and leaning against the wall, dried off as best he could.  He shakily wrapped another towel around his waist and took another of the small pain pills.  Leaving the clothes and wet towel to be taken care of later… he tried to walk to his room and the bed waiting for him.  Bren managed about four steps before his legs just buckled.  He lay there for a few minutes half on the carpet, half on the chilly bathroom tiles.  Wincing at the pain… he crawled across their apartment.  

The room was painfully neat, as it had always been since the kid had arrived.  Grunting with the effort, he pulled himself up on the small bed.  Sprawling across the blanket, he let himself collapse.  He was too tired to struggle with getting under the sheets, besides… his back was in agony.  This would be good enough… 

The world went black.

**

He awoke to pain.  Pain and an insistent shaking of his shoulder.  He blinked a few times, and realized that his shoulder was shaking because of a small hand shaking it.  Without moving, his eyes followed the arm attached to that hand up to a pale face with huge midnight-blue eyes and crowned with baby fine chocolate-brown hair.  He realized that the boy's face was practically white and there was panic in those eyes.  He blinked again and then forced himself to talk.  "I'm awake."

The boy started to babble in rapid Japanese, his voice carrying a distinctly hysterical edge to it.

"Wait… I can't…"  He struggled to push himself up and had to let his body fall back down with a groan.  That seemed to spur something in the boy.  He stopped and just stared at the redhead for a moment.  Bren couldn't bring himself to 'read' the kid, everything still hurt too much.  The boy seemed to make some kind of decision, as he disappeared from Bren's line of sight.

It might have been two minutes or twenty before the kid returned.  The telepath couldn't be sure.  When the boy reappeared beside the bed, he was carrying a bowl and had a couple clothes draped across the arm that still in a sling.  He climbed up on the bed beside the redhead and dipping the cloth into the bowl, started to carefully clean the lash marks.  Bren winced and bit his lip to keep from crying out.  The flesh was tender, probably bruised around the split skin.  He wasn't sure how long he lay there, feeling each spike of pain as the boy painstakingly washed the torn flesh.  He came back from his pain induced haze as a cool hand gently spread a something over the raw flesh that tingled a bit before the agony faded to numbness.

He was able to roll on to his side as Nagi slipped from the bed and knelt beside him on the floor, the boy's face level with his own.  "Schuldich?"

"I'll be okay, kid."

"What.. happen?"

"I got in trouble."  The boy frowned, obviously not really making the connection between Bren's 'trouble' and what had happened to him.  For which the redhead was grateful.  If the kid knew this was indirectly because of him…

"I… I was… scare."

Bren slipped into the boy's thoughts.  The kid had returned and walking into the bathroom, had found his the clothes and blood-stained towel on the floor.  In a panic, he had run into the bedroom.  Bren had to wince a bit at the sight of himself, back bruised and bloody, laying there as if dead.  In fact, that had been the boy's first thought.

"I'm sorry.  I should have taken care of the clothes."

"No... you... hurt."  The boy's German was haltingly slow; he was having trouble finding the words in his concerned state.  "Do you… want?"

"Some water, and a blanket."  He had to give the kid things to do, to take his mind off his fear.

"Okay."  

**

He already knew what he'd find when he got back.  He had seen Schuldich's back and the lash marks before the redhead had even gone out to enact his vengeance.  What confused him was why the telepath hadn't been confined in addition to being whipped.  Usually for something like this, if they weren't killed outright, the punishment was a public flogging, before dinner of course, in the dining hall and then confinement.

He had warned the German.  Unfortunately he had then been called away to check out a report of another possible psi.  He really wished the ones who reported these rumors would verify facts before calling them in.  Another wild goose chase.  And he didn't like having to go back to America.  He held no love for the country of his birth and no desire to return.  At least his LAST trip had brought in someone with potential.  People might be prejudiced against the Rom, but they did produce an amazing number of psis.  And the trip before that had produced young Naoe, so he guessed his track record wasn't too bad.  When someone bothered to check the rumors first.  He sighed and headed down the hall toward their quarters.

What's done is done.  At least he was back and could assess the damage.  He entered and noticed the place was unusually quiet.  He hung up his coat and took his bag into his room.  Coming back out, he caught sight of Nagi, standing on a chair, stirring something in a pot on the stove.  He almost smiled.  It was kind of cute; the boy was too small to be able to see into the tall pot without the chair.  Then he frowned, seeing that the kid's arm was still in that sling.  The doctor had said it would have to be supported for a couple weeks, it should be okay soon.  He walked over.  "Tadaima."

Nagi spun, surprised.  Brad frowned again, he should have been aware of his presence… they would have to work on that.  The boy blinked before answering.  "Okaeri."

The American walked over and peered into the pot.  It appeared to be some type of soup.  "You know, we have smaller pans."  He switched back to English; it was good practice for the boy.

"I couldn't reach them."  His voice was surprisingly soft.  Brad wasn't sure if it was just his nature or shyness in trying to speak a language he wasn't totally comfortable with yet.

"Ah.  Sorry, we'll do something about that."  He had forgotten.  Since they didn't cook all that often, he had put most of the pans up over the stove, in a cabinet the boy couldn't possibly reach, unless he stood on the counter, something that probably hadn't occurred to him.  "Why are you cooking anyways?  Isn't that Schuldich's job?"  The boy looked worried, his eyes darting toward the bedroom he shared with the redhead.  "What is it?"

"He's… he's hurt."  Nagi was biting his lip nervously.

It was only about ten steps to the door.  Ten steps and he stood in the open portal.  The young man was lying, curled up on his side; his face was pale with the exception of two bright spots of color high up on his cheeks.  Brad found himself beside the bed without remembering how he crossed the room.  He knelt on the cushion, no doubt brought in by Nagi and peered at the redhead's face.  It was at times like this, when the normally cynical German was asleep, his face relaxed; that one could see how young he really was.  Schuldich acted and seemed years older than he really was.  But now… Crawford could see a bit of the boy Bren had been once.

He felt a small body kneel next to him and looked over into a pair of midnight blue eyes.  "What happened?"

Nagi frowned.  "You left.  A knock… letter…"  He sighed, then switched to Japanese, knowing that at a time like this Crawford wouldn't scold him.  "He read the letter and told me to go to bed if he didn't come back by ten.  He still wasn't back by the time I had classes in the morning.  When I got back that afternoon, he was here, but hurt.  I cleaned the cuts on his back.  But then he got sick."  

Brad walked around to the other side of the bed and carefully eased the sheet down.  Nagi had obviously done the best he could to bandage the ragged tears.  He glanced at the boy, who was looking at him with apprehension.  "You did a good job.  I assume he wouldn't let you take him to the infirmary or call a doctor?"

"No."

"Typical.  I'll see if I can get some antibiotics.  Why don't you go check that soup?"

"Okay."

He shook his head as the boy left.  Something had obviously happened, something serious, beyond the whip marks.  But he doubted the redhead would be forthcoming with information.  He still saw the German graduating… but what kind of shape would he be in by the time he got there.  He sat down on the edge of the bed.  And would he be able to keep them all in one piece?

**

TBC


	22. Strained

**_Rosenkreuz… sweet Rosenkreuz_******

**Chapter 22: Strained**

It was becoming a very unhealthy pattern in Bren's opinion.  Every time Crawford was gone for more than a few days, he received another of those very politely written 'requests' for his presence.  And every time, the man used Nagi as trump card to get Bren to do just what he wanted.  The Japanese boy was definitely aware that there was something wrong but said nothing.  He got nervous whenever Brad left, acting troubled when the inevitable knock came to the door.  Fortunately, ever since that one time, Bren had never returned in as bad of shape.  He wasn't exactly unharmed, but it wasn't severe enough that he had to have Nagi care for him.  That had been damn embarrassing, in addition to painful, for both himself and the kid.

But even though his body wasn't taking as much of a beating, his psyche certainly was.  Schultz was just as much of a sadist of the mind as of the body.  His talent for manipulation, honed over years of overseeing the students and staff of Rosenkreuz, allowed him to hurt his victims in ways that left no visible scars, but damaged his victims forever.  And he was relentless.  He seemed determined to break Schuldich, perhaps as way to get back at Crawford who was apparently high in the elders favor, perhaps even challenging Schulz's authority without trying to.  But since the head instructor could do nothing to the American, he was targeting the ones the man seemed to have earmarked for his future team.

What was even more disturbing, Bren was sensing something… or someone else in his mind as well.  He woke feeling as if someone had been rummaging around in his head.  But he couldn't remember exactly who or what it was.  It was frustrating, because he KNEW he was 'meeting' whoever it was… but once he was awake, it was gone.  He wasn't sure which was disturbing him more, Schultz's obvious and painful manipulations, or the inability to remember what was going on in his own head.

The combination was enough to make him edgy and short tempered.  He even found himself snapping at Nagi for no reason, causing the kid to withdraw again.  He felt horrible for it after the fact, but there was little he could do about it.  He told himself it was for the best.  The boy had to learn how to survive.  Eventually… he would have to be moved into the dorms, he couldn't live on the floor in Bren's room for the next five and a half years.  His dorm mates wouldn't think twice about stabbing him in the back, possibly literally, then twisting the knife for good measure.  They had to 'toughen' the boy's skin before he got tossed into the deep end.  At least that's what he kept trying to tell himself.  But it didn't help when he saw that momentary flash of hurt in the boy's eyes. 

Add on the frustrations of a seventeen-year old's body… and Bren was one unhappy person.  He awoke from dreams involving the man in the other room, with the predictable bodily reaction, that he couldn't even take care of since there was a nine-year old sleeping not five feet away from him.  It was either lay awake till his hormones relaxed, or get up and make a trip to the bathroom.  It was not a state of affairs he liked all that much.

Throughout it all, Brad kept working, traveling, retrieving and recruiting for their masters… like some hunting dog sent out after game.  Bren supposed that was an unfair comparison, but he wasn't in a charitable mood.  The man was gone AGAIN.  This time he hadn't even bothered to tell them himself, just left a note for them to find.  Nagi was already eyeing the door from his spot on the floor with his books spread out around him.  Sure enough… he could sense one very jittery second-year coming up the hall.  He really wondered if bringing notes to him was some form of punishment for offenses, the kids certainly acted like it was torture.  The knock… the Japanese boy actually jumped this time, before looking at him with concern.

~You know the drill, kid.~

"Hai… bed at ten."

~I'll see you tomorrow.~  He opened the door for the poor messenger, some unfortunate greenie that had drawn the short straw that night.  He didn't even bother to close the door after the kid left, just stood there skimming the note to make sure it wasn't by some miracle different from the dozen or so he'd already received from the man.  /Night kid./  He shut the door behind him, just catching the nearly silent reply.

"Be careful…"

**

/Oh God… if there is a God, PLEASE just kill me now./  He didn't know WHAT Schultz had done to him last time… but whatever it was, his shields were failing.  It wasn't all at once, not like that one time in the 'Pit'.  But slowly, gradually, his shielding was eroding.  He wasn't even aware of it at first.  He noticed it first in the middle of his trigonometry class.  He wasn't overly fond of math to start with, then this hell, with a hag of a teacher who looked like she should be tormenting young children in a fairytale from the Brothers Grimm.  He noticed that he could 'hear' the other students around him.  Since he wasn't really paying attention to the lecture anyways, he took a couple minutes to reinforce his mental shields and was glad to note that the 'noise' stopped.

Then it happened at the shooting range.  Then again during his psi training.  Ever since the 'bitch's' demise, his trainer had been a Russian by the name of Ivanov.  The man claimed to be distantly related to Rasputin.  Bren had his doubts on the subject but was smart enough not to voice them.  Ivanov wasn't nearly as powerful as he was, but he had wonderful control.  Unfortunately… he couldn't teach worth a damn.  In the middle of the man's 'lesson', the redhead's shields just dropped.  Within seconds he was collapsed on the floor as the thoughts of every unshielded person in the complex flooded into his now unprotected mind.  Fortunately for Bren's sanity, Ivanov was quick to snap up some temporary shields.  Once he managed to pick himself up off the floor and get his own protections in place, the man really let him have it for being lazy.  

He sat through the rest of his 'lesson', 45 minutes, getting lectured on the problems with students these days.  He refused to listen to Bren's 'excuses' instead blaming the redhead for causing all the troubles in the facility that week.  To listen to the Russian, the young man was apparently the cause of everything from the lack of hot water in the shower that morning to the plague.  All the while, Bren's headache got worse and worse, soon surpassing everything except that really BAD visit to the 'Pit'.

Now, he was rocking on his bed, clutching at his temples and wishing that someone would just chop his head off and save him the agony.

He didn't understand why this was happening.  True, he DID have a tendency to be lazy at times, but not when his sanity was at stake.  But his shields were flimsy, weak things that couldn't stand up to a first-year, let alone a probe by a trained telepath like Schultz.  What he couldn't figure out was how they had gotten that way.  He was normally very meticulous about his shields; he had a lot of secrets to keep after all.  He remembered reinforcing them just that morning, like he did every day.  But they were barely there…

Like someone was knocking them down…

But how… how… He couldn't think… It was pure agony; the strain of trying to keep everyone out was wearing him out.  The medicine he had for headaches was doing nothing.  Finally, in desperation, he took one of the sleeping pills he had conned out of a young greenie.  At least if he was asleep, he wouldn't notice the 'voices' in his head.

He hoped.

_*Nice to see you again.*_

_/Who are you?/_

_*You don't remember… ah well… maybe another time.*_

_/Wait!  Who are you?… Why are you in my head?… Are you the one messing with my shields?…/_

_*Tsk tsk  So many questions… and you don't even remember me… I'm hurt Schuldich… Don't worry… We'll talk again…*_

_/Wait!!!/_

He bolted upright and looked around, frantically.  The apartment was quiet, and dark, it was much later than he thought.  Nagi was asleep on the floor.  He got his breathing under control with effort.  He was disturbed to find his hands were trembling.

/What the FUCK was that?/

**

He was cold.  Port cities in general were not the most attractive of sights, let alone one in late winter with a storm moving in.  But he had been ordered to come, so here he stood, on a wharf in Hamburg, waiting for the delivery of another potential student.  Most students were brought in as part of the yearly group, having spent the interim since their discovery either blissfully ignorant with their families, or if the recruiters were afraid they would disappear, with a guardian until the beginning of the new academic year.  That was what he did for the most part.  Investigate potential students and determine whether they had to be brought in or left where they were.  He was just responsible for that decision and transport of the potential psis, their placement with a 'guardian' was handled by another department.  But this one… this young man was being taken straight to Rosenkreuz, mid-year.

He pulled his scarf a little more snugly around his neck, it was cold.  He hadn't been given a lot of information about this subject, only a name, nationality, and a warning.  It was the warning that was bothering him.  He was a fully-trained Rosenkreuz graduate, and they warned him about this kid.  That did not comfort him in anyway.

Of less comfort was the knowledge that SOMETHING was going on with Schuldich.  His powers were reluctant to provide him with any information on that end however.  And Nagi… he was being pressured to move the boy into the dorms.  They certainly wouldn't be allowed to keep him with them into his second-year.  The administrators were very firm on that subject.  They probably thought the boy couldn't be properly brainwashed as the situation stood right now.  He had serious doubts how successful they would be with the boy anyways.  Naoe was remarkably intelligent, and very quick.  He didn't think the standard Esset indoctrination would get too far with the kid.  Fortunately, the boy seemed to accept him as a leader, and looked to Schuldich as filling some type of familial role.  That was good.  Instill that kind of respect/dependence in him now… and then later when his powers were unlocked, hopefully he wouldn't turn on them.  He had inklings of the kid's potential.  It was staggering.  And to be honest, scary.  When he came into his power, Nagi would likely be the most powerful telekinetic Esset had ever seen, and one of the most intelligent.  Having the boy turn on them, would be disastrous.

He stamped his feet.  Where was that boat?  He didn't understand why they didn't just fly the kid in to a nice warm airport, Berlin would have been good.  What was with this boy that they had to bring him all the way from Ireland by boat?  Using their private jets, they never had to worry about customs or immigration or any of the tedious problems of commercial flight.  Bribery was still a viable working practice… a little 'gift' here and there and the officials never saw a thing.  So what was different this time?

Finally he saw shadows emerging in the pre-dawn gloom.  Several men, judging by their size, escort one smaller figure, but it was too dark to see much of anything.  One of the men stepped forward into the light, he knew him, an Englishman if he remembered right, by the name of Cooper.  "Mr. Crawford."

"Yes."  The man seemed to visibly relax, as if glad to finally pass off a burden.  What was this kid like?

"Ah, good.  Here is the boy.  Name's Jay… but he's calling himself Farfarello."  One of the other men pushed the boy forward and Brad was able to get his first look at him.

The boy was pale, with rusty-red hair and even a few freckles; it just screamed of Irish ancestry.  His face was somewhat pretty, but a bit on the thin side as was the rest of his body.  When he finally looked up, Brad could see that his eyes were an unusual amber color.  What he could also see was the madness lurking within.  He took note of the restraints on the boy's wrists and shackles on his legs?  The kid looked barely into his teens, and four men felt the need to shackle him.  Then the boy REALLY looked at him, and he could feel the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

It was as if the kid was contemplating him like a butterfly in a collection.  He felt pinned by that eerie gaze.  This kid wasn't sane, wasn't even close.  With a suppressed shiver his refocused on Cooper's words.

"… hasn't given us any trouble for the last couple days.  You don't want to let him out though, unless you have a cage ready and someone else standing by.  He managed to kill one of the nurses and injured several guards at the last facility he was at.  All his paperwork is here."  The man handed him a very thick folder.  "Well… I'm off.  Johann and Gabe are to accompany you to Rosenkreuz to help with the kid."  He turned to walk away, one of the men going with him, then he tossed one last comment over his shoulder.  "Good luck… you're gonna need it."

Brad turned back to the kid, and found that the boy was still looking at him.  It was just creepy.  "Let's go.  The van is a couple streets over."  

One of the men pushed the boy forward.  "Can't be soon enough for me.  This brat's just freaky."

/I couldn't agree more./  Crawford thought as he led them away from the docks.  And yet… something clicked in his head, a glimpse of the future.  /You've got to be kidding me…/

**

TBC


	23. Insanity

**_Rosenkreuz… sweet Rosenkreuz_**

**Chapter 23: Insanity**

"So where the fuck were you this time?"

Brad just blinked.  "Well… you're in a grumpy mood."

"Fuck you too.  You just run off and leave us a note?  A NOTE?!!!"  

"I don't have to answer to you."  Brad hung up his coat and headed for the kitchen, he needed coffee if this was going to continue the way he thought it was.

"And I don't have to take this crap.  Something's going on and you won't tell me."

"Like you've told me what's going on with you?"  He rounded on the young German, he didn't want to get angry but Schuldich was damn frustrating at times.  He caught the flash of pain in those jade eyes, a little bit of the boy he'd seen that first day in the courtyard.  Then it was gone, covered up with the cynicism that the telepath had cultivated.  He thought the young man was going to respond, but he stopped and then looked toward his bedroom door.

Brad followed his gaze and sighed.  Standing in the doorway, like some waif, was Nagi.  His eyes were huge and his lower lip was trapped between his teeth.  He looked from one of them to the other and they could just see the gears turning in the boy's mind.  Brad grabbed his cup of coffee and sat down, waving Nagi over.  The kid approached hesitantly, but climbed up into his seat.

Schuldich reached over and ruffled the boy's hair.  "Don't worry kiddo; we were just having a disagreement."  Nagi didn't look reassured, even when the redhead got up and made him a cup of hot chocolate.  They talked about inconsequential things until the boy was nodding into his cup.  The German picked him up and gave Brad a look that said 'don't go anywhere, we're not done', then took the kid back into the bedroom.

Brad really didn't want to get into this argument tonight, but he supposed it was bound to happen eventually.  He waited, sipping his second cup of coffee and trying NOT to see how this was all going to turn out.  Sometimes knowing what was going to happen was more of a hindrance than not knowing.  He watched Schuldich come back out and quietly shut the door behind him.  The redhead stood there for a moment, just watching him drink the coffee, then walked back in and turned his chair around, straddling it and crossing his arms over the back.

"Now… what is going on?"  

Schu's earlier irritation seemed to have left and he made a mental note about Nagi's influence on the German.  Brad raised an eyebrow.  "You'll have to be more specific."

"And you're being damn cryptic."

"I'm not trying to, but there are several different situations you could be asking about."

"Fine… I'll play.  Start with Nagi."

"Nagi?"

"Yeah… what's the deal?  We gonna have to put him in the dorms?"

"I'm afraid so.  Unless we can come up with a good enough reason, and it would have to be damn good… he will go in with his yearmates at the beginning of next year."

"Shit."

"I know."

"Okay… second question.  Where the Hell did you go THIS time?"

"Hamburg."

"Hamburg… what's in Hamburg?"

"It wasn't so much what was there as what was coming in."

"You're being cryptic again."

"If you would let me finish… I was sent there to receive a student and bring him back to Rosenkreuz.  It was all very sudden.  They informed me and I had to leave within the hour.  There was no time to talk to you, both of you were in class."

"Ah.  So what's with this 'student'?  There's something… I can tell."

"I'm sure you can.  I would like you to go see him before I tell you anything, I want your impressions."  Schu looked at him quizzically but nodded.  "Now… it's late, I've had a VERY long day and I'm going to bed."

The redhead frowned.  "That's not everything."

"No… but it's all you are getting tonight."

**

Bren felt like a kid carrying a note from his father.  He wondered what it was about this new student that he had to have a message from Brad just to get in to see him.  Not to mention the fact that he had to go into an area of Rosenkreuz that he had never been to before.  He had known there was a psyche ward… of course there was, the place was practically an asylum for the mentally unstable after all.  If you didn't come in that way… you certainly ended up unbalanced.  The more severe were confined in a remote corner of the facility, behind additional walls and security that would put most prisons to shame.  Bren had avoided the area for a very good reason and he really wished he didn't have to come there now.  But he promised Brad that he would take a look at this 'Farfarello'.

/Mr. Anal-Retentive HAS to have a plan for this kid.  He never shows concern for anyone unless he does.  For that matter, what does he have planned for me?  And the brat? /

He waited, a little impatiently for the guard to confirm that he was in fact supposed to see one of the inmates.  Then he was finally led down the narrow corridor.  The doors on either side were barred, even with his shields as strong as he could make them, he could sense the disturbed minds behind those locked portals.  It made him feel jumpy and unnerved; some of those minds were so twisted they didn't even seem human.  The guard stopped in front of one unremarkable door, pulled out a key card and slid it through the magnetic lock, entering a code as well.  The door opened and the man gestured for Schu to enter.  "Go ahead; I'll be here if something happens."

Bren blinked, the guard was waiting outside… how dangerous was this kid?  He walked into the room, which was more like a cell.  The room was stripped of anything that could possibly be used as a weapon.  The walls and floor were plain tile, easily cleaned, the single window was narrow and unopenable, for light not air, Bren thought it looked like that unbreakable glass that had the wires running through it.  The fluorescent light in the ceiling was likewise contained behind a grate, and too high to be reached in any case.  There was no furniture at all, only a single mattress lay on the floor.  Sitting in a corner, on that mattress, and wrapped in a straight jacket, was the kid.

The boy's amber eyes lifted, and Bren reached for a weapon he wasn't permitted to bring in with him.

**

"Are you insane?"

"You've seen Farfarello."

"Yeah… so I ask you again, are you insane?  There is no way we can work with that."

"THAT happens to be a human being, and will be your future teammate; you will address him with some respect."

"Fuck…"

"And watch your language."

Bren rather guiltily looked around for the Japanese boy.  "Where is Nagi anyways?"

"They started him on the chore rotation."

"Oh what fun.  Are you serious… we're REALLY going to have to work with that… err… him?"

"Yes, I'm serious.  I'm not exactly thrilled with the idea either… but…"

"But you had a vision, right?"

"Yes."

"Shhhh…ugar."  Brad looked at him with barely disguised amusement.  "So… now that I've seen… him.  Will you tell me what's going on?"

"Get comfortable… this is going to take a while."

**

TBC

Hehehe… I just know I'm going to get comments for ending it there… sorry about the lack of posting for a bit… it's been a couple of busy weeks.  Last week I was online for one morning and that was it.  But hopefully with school festivals and conferences over for a while, I'll be able to get back to a semi-normal schedule.  -Yan


	24. Revelations

**_Rosenkreuz… sweet Rosenkreuz_**

**Chapter 24: Revelations**

He was just barely hanging on to his sanity by a thread.  Well, what was left of his sanity anyways.  It was hard to believe he was in this sixth and last year in Rosenhell.  Nearly a third of his life down the drain.  He held on to his frayed sense of self as another surge washed over him.  It was getting that the sleeping pills he stole from the infirmary weren't even working anymore.  It was pathetic… he could down a dozen and get nothing… no sleep, no 'silence', no rest from the voices in his head.  

He had to get out.  It was the only way.  He had to get away from this place and its screams and torture and the never-ending voices in his head.  But not to Berlin… no… too close.  Too easy for them to catch him again.  Too easy for him…

Crawford.  Another never-ending headache.  He knew the man wanted him… could feel it despite Brad's nearly impenetrable shields.  He wanted him… and Bren wanted him, craved him, like he craved the 'silence', hoping that maybe in a joined state he wouldn't hear anyone else.  That maybe he might even hear him… there was always a curious 'blankness' around the American.

But the man avoided him like he carried the plague.  An amazing feat since they still shared an apartment.  For some reason… the higher-ups didn't trust him.  The first smart idea they'd had he was sure.  He couldn't even distract himself trading quips with the brat. As predicted, Nagi had been moved into the dorms.  But not in with his own year.  He was so advanced… the teachers had put him in with the fourth-years.  He wasn't very popular.

And the other one… the psycho.  Bren only saw him when absolutely required to by Brad.  The kid gave him the chills.  If Crawford was serious about him being a member of the team, he better come up with a way to control the kid, or they were going weren't going to wake up some morning.  If Farfarello was just insane it wouldn't be a problem, but he was smart too.  And he had moments of complete sanity that were even more disturbing than his insanity.  As stressed as Bren's mind and shields were… he couldn't be in the younger teen's vicinity for more than a few minutes.

He curled up in a ball of agony.  It was her… that voice… whispering again… and again… and again…

He had to get out…

Last time, he'd used stealth… but not this time.  He watched the German countryside slide by from the window of the train.  His only stop between his room and the back gate, was to duck into the office that handled all the expenses for the facility and raided the safe.  He didn't make off with a lot of money, but combined with the pittance he got for expenses it would be enough.  Enough to get him where he was going and to buy some 'silence' along the way.

He sighed blissfully.  The stuff he'd picked up in Berlin was good, all the other voices fading into the background.  It was quiet.  For the first time in months… his mind was quiet.

**

He firmly resisted the temptation to throw the coffee cup he was holding across the room.  For one, it really wouldn't help matters and two… good coffee was a rarity and it would truly be a waste.  Exercising the cool control he was known for, Brad set the cup down.  Then calmly picked up the glass that had been left by the sink and threw IT across the room.  He had a moment of satisfaction hearing it shatter, then he picked up his coffee again and sat down at the table to stare at the note.  Pity he wasn't a pyrokinetic… it would have been very satisfying to torch the paper.

He read the short message again, willing the words to change.  That he was merely dreaming or tired and his mind was playing a trick on him.  But the sentences stayed the same.

Braddy,

Decided I needed a vacation… Don't bother to come looking for me.  I think this will be a one-way trip.  Sorry to ruin your grand plans for world domination but I just can't take this shit anymore.  Take care of the brat and the psycho for me.

Love,

Schu

/Damn him!  This is no time to be pulling this crap. /  He sighed and pulled himself to together.  He had to go inform Nagi.  And then… then Schultz.

**

Brad sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, reaching for the aspirin bottle again.  The day had not gone well.  Nagi was having a difficult enough time without his 'protector' running off.  He was chum for the sharks now and knew it.  Hopefully they would be able to keep Schuldich's disappearance quiet for a bit, but the rumors would be starting soon.  Sixth-years were frequently sent out on short field assignments, preparing them for their internships, so his absence wouldn't be noted immediately.  But if he wasn't back in a couple days, and it would take that long just to check for him in all those tiny villages between Rosenkreuz and Berlin… the whispers would start.  If they hadn't already.

Nagi would have to be extra careful.  The teachers might like him, called him their prodigy, but teacher's pet equated to dorm target.  Getting moved up with the fourth-years when he should have been with the second… there were plenty of disgruntled, half-trained students eyeing him with a predator's gaze.  Nagi was already withdrawing… now this incident with Schuldich…

He dumped a couple of the bitter pills into his palm and downed them with water.

Then dealing with Farfarello.  The 'doctors' were very interested in him.  There was a debate going on as to whether the Irishman was truly 'gifted' or if his inability to feel pain was caused by something else entirely.  It was requiring a good amount of fast talking on Crawford's part to keep the kid from ending up on the dissection table.  It didn't help that every time someone was with the teen he looked at them as if pondering vivisection himself.

He wandered into Schuldich's room.  He'd been over it once already and didn't find anything to indicate where the young man had gone.  All that was missing was the small, standard issue bag used for short field assignments, all his civvy clothing, and the small bundle of money sixth-years were given for expenses on their infrequent trips out.

Brad sighed and sat on the bed.  This wasn't turning out the way he had planned.  He hadn't seen this.  Why hadn't he seen it?  This had the potential to disrupt everything he had set in motion.  So why hadn't he known about it?  He punched the pillow and was surprised to hear something fall behind the headboard, sliding down the wall to thump quietly on the floor.  

Frowning, he knelt and looked under the narrow bed.  Lying on the floor where it had fallen, was a thin book.  Reaching under and grimacing at the dust bunnies that attacked him, Brad fished out the spiral bound notebook.  It was of the type issued to all the students and he figured Schu had just been doing his homework in bed and lost it between the bed and wall.  Idly he flipped it open and then frowned.

Instead of notes, or more likely for Schu doodles of his teachers in various unflattering poses, there were simply pages of writing.  The lighting was bad and Brad couldn't make anything out.  Curious now, he took the notebook back out to the table and sat down.  He stared at it in confusion for a moment before realizing what Schu had done.  The redhead's handwriting was atrocious in any language, but instead of the German or even English that Brad had been expecting… everything was written in Japanese, romanji, but Japanese none the less.  The American snorted, he hadn't thought Schu had actually listened when he told him to take lessons from Nagi.

He grabbed a notepad from the junk drawer and started to try to make sense of the writing.  He quickly discovered that it was going to take forever this way.  Frowning, he stood and headed for the door.  It was time the little Japanese boy started earning his keep.

**

He was regretting asking Nagi to do this.  It would have taken him forever to translate the notebook, given his low level of Japanese and Schu's even poorer command of the language.  Sometimes even the boy was totally confused by the German's attempts at grammar.  But slowly the redhead's story was emerging.

Schu had always scoffed at people writing things down.  If it was written down, it was evidence and could be used against you, he said.  But apparently his pain had become deep enough that he had gone against his own beliefs and started keeping a journal.  Using his younger teammate's language, that few people at Rosenkreuz knew, he obviously hoped that should the journal be found, it wouldn't be of any use to his 'enemies'.  And his 'enemies' were rapidly being exposed by the words the young Japanese boy was painstakingly translating.

'Pain' was the main theme of those words.  Brad was hard pressed not to go track down Schultz and give him a lesson in marksmanship.  If he had known… he SHOULD have known.  He knew something was going on… that something was wrong.  But he had never imagined this.  

What Schultz had been doing with Schuldich… TO Schuldich… was nothing short of abuse, torture even.  It was sickening.  And he should have known.  Judging from the tears Nagi was trying to repress, he had known something was going on, but not what.  And certainly not that most of Schu's current suffering was indirectly because of him.  He was sorry that he asked Nagi to be involved, but it was too late.

He understood now why Schu… why Bren, felt that he had to leave.  The young man must have felt trapped.  And obviously he had failed since the redhead hadn't told him.  Why hadn't Schu come to him?  Didn't the teen realize after all he had done for Nagi that he would have stood up for Schu as well?  He wouldn't have tolerated this type of abuse of his team… even if it was a future team.  He needed them… and he needed them whole.  Since he couldn't have them whole, he would take whatever he could get.  He understood that they were still technically students and were therefore subject to the regulations and training conducted at the facility.  That DIDN'T include the systematic abuse of one of the most promising and powerful telepaths Esset had ever found.

He was furious.  With Schultz mainly.  But he was also very angry with himself for not pressing the issue.  And with Schu for not coming to him.  He also felt chilled as the rest of the redhead's problems came to light.  He realized what Schu had meant by 'one-way trip'.  To have your shields collapsing like that… with no logical explanation.

Finally they came to the last painful entry, where Schu decided he had to leave.  Brad sent Nagi in to sleep in Schu's room for the night; there was no way he was going to let the boy walk back to his dorm this late at night.  He wouldn't have any problems with the guards, he had permission to be out after all… but the halls, specifically the dorm halls weren't safe after dark.  No sense putting the kid in the position to get attacked, not without Schu around to reinforce his threats.  Maybe he would have to invent a reason to keep Nagi with him till the German returned.  Provided he was able to find Schuldich before Esset sent out the bloodhounds with a kill order.

He sighed.  Okay, now he understood WHY the redhead had left, although he felt guilty for not having done anything earlier.  He knew why… the next question was where?  Where would he have gone?  Obviously he had felt some instinct toward self-preservation since he hadn't written that information down.  Brad realized something… Schu… or more likely Bren had WANTED him to find it.  Had wanted him to read it and find out what the redhead couldn't tell him.

It was time to go hunting.  But where?

**

TBC


	25. For Now

**_Rosenkreuz… sweet Rosenkreuz_**

**Chapter 25: For Now**

Finally… a vision.

It had been over a month, and Brad was finding it extremely difficult to keep the hounds out of the hunt.  Nagi had been beaten up twice before he had been able to get permission to move the boy back into the apartment.  Farfarello was as difficult as ever.  And Schu was still missing.

He had lodged a formal complaint against Schultz, using the journal as evidence.  As he had expected, nothing had really been done to the older man beyond a slap on the wrist, but now he knew that Crawford knew.  The man was openly hostile toward him; he had always hidden it before.  If Brad ever heard about him touching Schu again, he wouldn't bother to protest… he would simply shoot the bastard.

He couldn't help feeling that he had let Schuldich down.  He tried to convince himself that there was no way he could have known without a vision or the redhead talking to him.  But that didn't really help all that much.  He had made himself responsible for the German telepath, for good or for ill, and as such, he was as much to blame as Schultz.  Well, maybe not quite as much to blame, but he did have to share some of it.

As did Schuldich.

But at last, a vision, the first glimpse of the frustrating redhead that he had.  He wasn't reassured by what he saw.  It looked as though the young man had finally fallen into the trap many telepaths stumbled into.  It appeared that he had finally turned to drugs in an effort to calm the noise in his head.  From the condition Schuldich looked to be in, it wasn't working.

Crawford quickly showered and pulled on clothing.  He would have to be swift if he was to make it to Paris in time.

**

It seemed as though a dam had broken.  That first vision was followed by others as the cramped commuter jet Crawford was traveling on soared though the airspace between Berlin and Paris.  There was something else going on with Schuldich.  Something beyond Schultz's abuse.  He didn't believe that alone would make the redhead turn to drugs, he hadn't when he'd run before.  It was possible that everything had finally pushed him over the edge, but he got the feeling that wasn't it.  Schuldich was petty and vindictive and dangerous as Hell when he was pissed, and he didn't fold easily.  Which meant something else was influencing the redhead.  

For some reason, Crawford's memories flashed back to the German's previous instructor.  An equally petty and vindictive little bitch that had very nearly succeeded in ruining any potential Schuldich had.  He wondered idly how much better the young man would be if he had started with a decent trainer.  

He remembered the night the bitch had died.  Very quietly, very quickly, from a precisely placed bullet to the center of her forehead.  The murder had never been solved, not that Schultz had pressed too deeply.  Come to think of it, that was about the time Schuldich started to act strangely.  Perhaps the reason the headmaster hadn't pursued the death was because he had personally punished the murderer, in his own sadistic way.  But that wouldn't account for all the mental stress in the German's head.

But it WAS possible that the bitch had done 'something' to him before her untimely death.

The more he thought about it… the more likely that was.  They all studied not only their own gifts, but the basics of the others as well.  It was good to know what your superiors/subordinates/teammates were capable of.  And what they weren't.  The strengths and weaknesses of each power were taught to all.  And more than the basics were offered to potential leaders.  Crawford had a better than passing familiarity with telepathy.  Hopefully it would be enough to restore Schu to some semblance of balance.  Because otherwise… 

Otherwise the kindest thing Brad could do, would be to put a bullet in the German's head.

**

Due to one of those handy premonitions during his flight, Brad knew where to go, and unfortunately what he would find.  He took a taxi to the area Schu was 'living' in and got out, after reassuring the driver that 'yes, he did want to get out there'.  The man took his money and drove away as fast as he could.  The American didn't blame him; he didn't like being in this area either.  He walked down the streets, filled with drug addicts, homeless drunks, and prostitutes.  He opened his coat so his gun was visible to deter the first two and sneered at the latter.  Outside the building Schuldich had taken up residence in, he grimaced.  This was NOT going to be pleasant.

He walked up to the fourth floor, stepping over piles of trash and the occasional passed out alcoholic.  There it was, room 418… or was it 413… the paint was barely visible.  The door was locked; at least Schuldich had been THAT aware when he'd returned.  Fortunately Brad wasn't a half-bad lock pick and he soon entered the dingy apartment.  He made a face at the condition of the place.  If he had any choice he would simply burn the place down.  

He heard a faint sound from one side of what appeared to be a combined living/bedroom.  Lying next to the bed, on the cold hard floor, was Schuldich.  Crawford paled, seeing him.  It was worse than even his visions had indicated.  The young man was painfully thin, deep bruise-like shadows under his eyes, his skin wasn't so much pale as gray, and his arms were covered in needle tracks.  He was also whimpering.

His heart, previously rumored around Rosenkreuz not to exist, went out to the telepath.  He once again thanked the Fates that he wasn't gifted in that way.  Crossing to the room, he knelt and let his own power cancel the redhead's out.  He wasn't sure why… but for some reason his talents acted as a buffer for Schuldich's.  He saw those paper thin eyelids flutter… then the redhead actually tried to sit up.  He put a quick hand on the young man's shoulder.

"Don't try to move, Schuldich."

The German let himself fall back to the bed.  He frowned.  When he spoke, his voice was thin and hoarse.  "B..brad?"

Maybe he wasn't beyond help.  "Shhh.  Just relax.  I'm going to lift you now."  He could see the redhead turn a little green.  "Okay?"  Schuldich didn't answer, just nodded, and Brad eased him onto the pathetic excuse for a bed as gently as he could.  He looked around and saw a blanket that had been kicked off to the floor.  He shook it out, mindful of mice or rats that might have taken up residence, then tucked it in around the shivering German.  Trying not to disturb the telepath, he sat on the edge of the bed, hoping that silence in his head would bring Schuldich some comfort.

He felt a tentative touch in his mind and dropped his normally impenetrable shields.  ~Brad?~ Even Schuldich's mental voice sounded tired.

"You've really made a mess of yourself this time.  Why do you do this?"  He wanted to be supportive and caring… but Crawford had to establish that this wouldn't be tolerated again.  He could be comforting after he drilled this into the stubborn German's skull.

~I couldn't take it anymore…~

/Well THAT was obvious./  He closely guarded his thoughts.  "What?  The training?" /And Schultz's abuse… I should have just killed the bastard./

~Among other things…~

"YOU IDIOT! WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME?"  He instantly felt sorry as the telepath groaned.

~Can you knock off the shouting?  Besides, what can you do?  You're a slave to THEM too.~

Did he REALLY think him so incapable of helping?  Not caring for his team… or what would be his team.  Against his will, and certainly against his better judgment, Crawford found himself getting angry.  "This is MY team dammit!  I'm the one in control here."

~I sure hope so… cause I know, I'm not…~

He instantly felt sorry.  Schuldich… Bren… was in no shape for this conversation.  He pulled off his glasses and rubbed at the bridge of his nose, it had been a very long day.  And it would probably be a longer night if Bren was going to be going through withdrawal.  "We'll get you through this, Bren.  You know that, don't you?  But I have to tell you, Nagi's upset you left, didn't eat for days.  Farfarello has been more difficult than ever.  You are needed by Schwarz.  Forget Esset.  Another year at the most and we'll be out of there.  I can help you get clean.  Find a trainer who is at least halfway human to work with you.  Or I'll leave you here, and you will most likely die.  It's your choice."

He had to give the redhead the choice.  He wasn't going to be able to dominate him the way he would Nagi and Farfarello.  Bren had to make the choice to come… it had to be a joining of equals, or Schwarz would never work.  Schuldich was too much of a maverick to accept anything less.

He watched the young man ponder his options.  There really were only two, the only two anyone ever really had… to live… or to die.

The redhead cleared his throat, and in the barest audible whisper…  "I'll go with you."  

Crawford nodded.  It would have to do, for now.

TBC


	26. Home Again

**_Rosenkreuz… sweet Rosenkreuz_**

**Chapter 26: Home Again**

He wasn't sure what strings Brad had pulled, again… but he was glad he wasn't stuck in the infirmary.  Even without the perpetual aura of fear fairly radiating off every 'greenie' in the place, sick people weren't exactly very quiet of mind.  There really wasn't any reason for him to be in the infirmary anyways.  Rosenhell's attitude toward drug addiction was to apply the minimum of medical care necessary to keep the addict alive, and that was it.  They subscribed to the 'cold turkey' method of detox.  His other problems were related to weight loss and the stress in his head.  He could eat perfectly well without their supervision and there wasn't anything the doctors and assistants could do for his strained talents.

And so with a fair amount of relief, he let Crawford steer him toward their apartment.  ~oh look… home sweet home…~

The American just glared at him and let go of his arm to open the door.  Bren staggered as the support disappeared, falling against the wall.  "Ouch."  Crawford looked at him, and then pushed the door open and walked in, leaving him leaning against the wall in the hallway.  ~Are you just going to leave me here?~

"You can get yourself inside."

He sighed.  Well, it had been nice while it lasted.  He could hear Brad talking to someone.  /Who would be in the apartment… if he wasn't there?/  He wasn't exactly at the top of his game, physically or mentally, but all his curiosity was there.  Staggering like a drunken sailor he made his slow way into the apartment.

~Nagi?!~

The slight boy looked up with undisguised delight.  "Schu!"  The Japanese telekinetic rushed over, but stopped just short of touching him.

"Hey, Brat."  Man… he must really look like shit from the concern he could feel from the kid.  Speaking of concern… he hooked one finger under Nagi's chin and turned his small face from one side to the other, his anger growing by the second.  "Who?"

The boy pulled away and went back to his books spread out on the floor.

"Who, Nagi?"

"Not now, Schuldich."  Crawford stood off to one side, arms crossed, looking implacable as always.

"And where the hell were you when he was getting the crap beat out of him?!"

"Looking for you."

Bren's knees almost buckled.  It was only by a supreme force of will that he walked over to the couch before he collapsed.  It was his fault.  In leaving, he'd removed the only protection the boy had.  Crawford being forced to look for him had ensured that NO ONE was watching after the small Japanese kid.  Bren cursed inwardly.  He was so damn stupid!  Nagi might have been put in with the fourth years… but that didn't mean his powers were necessarily unlocked like theirs.  He was practically defenseless.

"If you are done beating yourself up over something that can't be changed, I believe Nagi has dinner ready."

Bren looked up.  True enough, while he'd been engaged in self flagellation, the small boy had set the table and put out bowls of food.  Forcing himself to his feet, he managed to stumble over and take his seat.  The American simply sat and served himself, eating his meal while reading a newspaper.  Nagi took the redhead's plate and dished it up for him before fixing a plate for himself.  Bren stared at the food.  Typical Rosenkreuz fare, same as boarding schools the world over he was sure.  Boring, bland, and tasteless; though no doubt nutritionally adequate, why pay for flavor after all?

He picked at the meal.  He really wasn't hungry, withdrawal did that to him.  He forced some of the unappetizing food down his throat, knowing the American would most likely not let him get away till he did.  He noticed that Nagi wasn't exactly enthusiastic about the meal either.  The boy hadn't taken much to begin with and was mostly pushing it around the plate.  They were still sitting there, playing with their food when Crawford finished and left, closing himself in his bedroom.

Only then did Bren feel willing to talk to the boy.  "Are you mad at me?"  A pair of midnight eyes looked up, startled, he hadn't been paying attention.  The redhead repeated his question.

Nagi looked confused.  "Why would I be angry with you?"

"If I hadn't left you wouldn't have been attacked."

The boy went back to picking at his dinner.  "They would have found another time… umm…"  He obviously wanted to ask something… but was hesitating.

"What, kid?"

"Did… did that man really do those things to you?"

An uneasy feeling squirmed through Bren's stomach.  "What do you mean?"

"Those things you wrote about."

Oh my God… Brad didn't… he couldn't have.  "Did you… did Crawford have you read the journal?"  Nagi wilted a bit and nodded.  ~Brad Crawford, I'm going to kill you.  You had no right to make him read that.~  He didn't think the American heard him, he seemed to be blocking him out, again.  "Yeah he did.  But he won't anymore."

"Was it…"

"What?"

"Was it… because of me?"

Shit… "Where did you get that idea?"

"You killed those two guys who beat me up.  And then that man did… things to you because you killed them.  So… is it my fault?"

Hell… we better do something about this kid's martyr complex before it gets out of hand.  "No… he would have done those things anyway, he did before Brad even brought you here.  Yeah, some of it happened because I killed those bastards.  But I knew something would happen, Crawford warned me, and I still went out and got them.  I chose to kill them kiddo, none of this is your fault.  Okay?"

He didn't look totally convinced, but his expression implied that he would accept the explanation, even if he didn't believe it.  He made a face at the now cold, tasteless food, and pushed his plate away.  Bren forced himself to eat a couple more forkfuls then did the same.  He was drop dead tired; the fight with his royal majesty would have to wait.  He watched Nagi take care of the plates then let the kid fuss over him.  The boy followed him into his bedroom watching as he got ready for bed.  Nagi frowned over the needle marks; he'd spent enough time on the streets to know what they meant.  He lay down and allowed the boy to pull the blanket up over him.  If it made Nagi feel good to think he was taking care of Bren, he certainly wasn't going to argue.  Even if it did make him feel like he was taking advantage of the kid.

He watched the boy leave and heard him moving around the apartment, turning off lights and such.  Soon the kid came back in.  "Do you need anything before I go to bed?"

It suddenly occurred to Bren that the boy's old pallet wasn't there anymore.  "Where have you been sleeping?"  

Nagi looked apologetic.  "In your bed.  I'll stay out on the couch tonight."

He sighed, defiantly had to work on this boy.  "No you won't.  Come on, you don't take up much room.  We'll figure something out tomorrow, you can stay with me tonight."  Nagi was hesitant, but his trust of Bren outweighed his learned caution.  He ducked into the bathroom to change.  When he came back out, the redhead held up a corner of the blanket in invitation.  With only a momentary pause, Nagi climbed into the bed.  He was stiff for a while, but then relaxed curling into the warmth of Bren's body.  Eventually the telepath fell asleep as well.

It was the most restful sleep he'd had in a long time.

TBC

Yeah, yeah… I  KNOW it's short.  My muse decided to take a vacation and hasn't gotten completely back into the swing of things yet.  Besides this is a bridge chapter, hopefully to something better and longer, so no complaints on length this time. ^_~


	27. Pomp and Circumstance

**_Rosenkreuz… sweet Rosenkreuz_**

**Chapter 27: Pomp and Circumstance**

The next several months passed in a blur of studying and classes and tutoring.  Crawford made it clear, in no uncertain terms, that Schuldich was to graduate on time.  Whatever he needed to do to achieve this, was irrelevant; he WOULD graduate with the rest of his class, end of discussion.

There was many a night when Bren wanted to stuff his books UP the American's rear to join the stick that was already in place.  Not surprisingly, it was Nagi who helped Bren with his classes and homework.  Intellectually the boy was far beyond what Bren could ever hope to achieve, but brilliance didn't equate with self-esteem or physical power.  Unfortunately it was the strong and the confident who succeeded in Rosenkreuz; the brilliant had to hope for enough eloquence to get them the strength they needed.  Regretfully, Nagi was on the reticent and antisocial side.  He was fortunate that Crawford and Bren had taken an interest in him, in turn; the boy helped Bren catch up.

The German was quite motivated to graduate and get out of Rosenkreuz.  The instructors and Crawford were surprised how good Bren was in his classes when he actually applied himself.  One evening Brad made an offhand comment about it, and the redhead responded that he hadn't cared before.  This sent the American off on a rant about how important it was for Bren to have a good education, which likely would have continued for an hour or so if the German hadn't told him to 'stuff it', then escaped in the shocked silence.

He considered it a point to him.

Schultz was giving him a wide berth.  Bren kept waiting, but the man didn't call for him.  Sent no notes.  Made no effort to punish or even talk to him.  In a way it was nerve wracking.  He wished the man would just do whatever he was going to do.  But he didn't.

Nagi wasn't moved back into the dorm.  They were able to convince the instructors that having the boy tutor Schuldich was more effective if the kid was staying with them.  Nagi responded to the security their presence provided, coming back out of the shell he'd been retreating into.  It also gave Bren the opportunity to make sure the boy slept and ate regularly.  The bruises disappeared and the dark shadows under the boy's eyes lifted.  He resumed sleeping on the pallet in Bren's room.

Crawford was gone less than before.  It was as if the high ups were waiting for something.

**

Graduation at Rosenkreuz was like everything else at the facility, designed to demonstrate to the younger students what they were working towards, yet at the same time reminding the graduates who they belonged to.  They were supposed to be humbled and awed by their superiors… Bren was neither of these things.

He was impressed however, by the whole overbearing display.  He was impressed that much ego could FIT into the main hall.  Now he was first to admit, he had a fairly healthy ego of his own, when his powers were cooperating, but he knew he wasn't indestructible, having talent didn't make you invulnerable after all.  The bitch who was currently taking up residence in his head was proof of that.  

She didn't like his attitude and tried to give him a stabbing headache, to which he promptly caged her and tossed her in the darkest corner of his mind.  He was getting better at that lately, keeping her confined.  He couldn't figure out how to get rid of her, and SHE certainly wasn't being helpful on the matter.  But he had figured out how to block her off so she couldn't torment him as much.  Either he was getting stronger or she was weakening.  It was possible that the echo of the bitch that lingered inside him was fading.  Without a body to sustain the mind and having very little effect on him, her will couldn't sustain her indefinitely.  At least that was his hope.

He focused on the speaker, some illustrious, highly respected, and high ranking member of Esset.  Bren thought he was a pompous windbag.

Ah yes, Esset.  They were finally let in on the organization that financed this little level of Hell.  If he wasn't a psi himself he would have said they were off their rockers.  The whole shindig was run by three fossils that spent most of their time at a secluded estate somewhere in Switzerland.  Rumors had it that they were several hundred years old.  Having seen their pictures, Bren didn't really doubt that… they LOOKED a couple hundred years old.  Other rumors said they made a deal with demons to keep their powers and stay alive.  He wasn't so quick to believe that one.  Come on?  Demons?  Really… the only demons he'd seen were the administrators here… and whoever the head cook was… that man HAD to be demonic to keep serving the same crap for the last several years.

And Esset's glorious plan.  They intended to someday bring order to the world… under their benevolent dictatorship of course.  It had been hard not to laugh outright at that one.  Hadn't they heard all that before?  Come to think of it… from what he had learned, it wasn't just possible but entirely probable that a certain WWII German dictator had been moved in to power by the organization.

He brought his attention back to applaud politely with the others as the windbag finally sat down.  Schultz got up to speak, joy.  He tuned the man out pretty quickly.  He was just going on AGAIN about how they should be loyal to the organization, they were gifted and therefore superior to mundane humans, that they would bring about a new age of humankind, blah, blah, blah…

Brainwashing, Nagi had called it.   The kid, as usual, had been right.

He was a little concerned about the brat.  Now that he was graduating, ON TIME no less so there you uptight bastard, what would happen to Nagi?  What would happen to Bren for that matter?  Crawford had stayed for additional training.  That wasn't his thing.  He was lucky to have gotten through what he did.  He wasn't suited for formal education.  Because of the intensity of the training, graduates of Rosenkreuz had the equivalency of an Associates Degree, not just a high school diploma.  Bren figured that was plenty for him.  But he was worrying about Nagi wasn't he?

Schultz was STILL droning on… the man sure liked the sound of his own voice.

Bren knew he was to be assigned to Crawford's team.  What exactly that would entail, his majesty hadn't informed him of yet.  He thought it was likely though that they would be sent on short field assignments like Brad did last year, with the redhead going along as an assistant and 'learning the ropes' so to speak.  His internship if you would.  But what would that mean for the small Japanese boy?  And the psycho… mustn't forget the psycho after all.

He stood with the others as they were acknowledged as the current graduating class, the younger students applauding half-heartedly.  There were no diplomas, no awards, nothing was given to them.  Their 'public' records were changed to reflect their graduation, should a check ever be run on them.  But that was it.  And the name 'Rosenkreuz' never appeared anywhere in those records.  Esset had a front school all set up, course it only existed on paper and one small office staffed by a secretary and a phony head instructor, but they handled any inquiries as to graduates educational records.  The office also served as the repository of other artificial records on the former students, like birth certificates, family records, citizenship and passport records; everything designed to conceal their talents and 'specialized education'.

He filed out with the others, past the dignitaries and Schultz, who glared at him but said nothing.  Outside the main hall, the graduates dispersed.  It was one of the few times male and female students did anything together.  That was one of the strictest rules of Rosenkreuz, the genders did NOT mingle.  The sides of the facility were only connected in two places, the front courtyard, and the hallway that contained the head instructor's office, and even in that hallway, there was a gate manned at all times.  They didn't want fraternization between the sexes in any way, shape or form.  Of course, this led to some interesting encounters in the dorms at night, as teenage hormones raged, but it kept what the administrators wanted to prevent, mainly pregnancies, extremely limited.  There were always a few, mainly from encounters with staff or from the rare coed training excursions, but they were dealt with swiftly.

The girls returned to their side of the facility.  The boys started to divide into their cliques, with plans to party, using contraband they had smuggled in.  A few, the weaker ones, slunk off to their rooms to hopefully avoid being targets.  The greenies of course made themselves VERY scarce, very quickly.  Bren headed back to the apartment he shared with the brat and his majesty.  He wondered what kind of welcome was waiting for him tonight.

**

TBC

I know I said it would be longer… but it didn't end up that way.  Hmmm… I wonder what is waiting for Bren back at the apartment… yes… I know I'm evil… and damn proud of it!  ^____^


	28. What's Waiting

**_Rosenkreuz… sweet Rosenkreuz_**

**Chapter 28: What's Waiting**

Bren returned to the apartment to find that both Nagi and Brad had beaten him back.  He didn't know how the man managed that, but he knew the shortest route to anywhere in the facility.  Nagi greeted him with a small smile then pointed to the table, where a decent meal was waiting.  The redhead grinned and moved toward the table.  It was all laid out; obviously the boy had set the table earlier and had simply waited till he'd gotten back to set out the food.  Speaking of the food, he could see a couple take-out packages sitting on the counter.  Of course, Brad could have determined when they would get back and have the food delivered at the right time.  Where was the devil, anyways?

He looked around and caught sight of Brad just coming out of his bedroom.  The man had changed out of his suit and was dressed much more casually than Bren had ever seen him.  Even in khakis and a sweater, he thought the man beautiful.  Beautiful wasn't a word he usually associated with a man, handsome, pretty even sometimes… but not beautiful.  But Brad Crawford was... much in the same way a panther was beautiful, all the more so because of the danger involved.  He dragged his thoughts back from the gutter, damn hormones.  Crawford wasn't interested in him, he'd made that clear.  For years Bren had tried to subtly encourage the man, but got nowhere.

"Congratulations, I told you this would happen."

"You didn't really give me much of a choice now did you?"

The man just shrugged.  "Shall we eat?"  They sat down and Bren enjoyed the first good meal he'd had since coming to the place.  After dessert, for which Brad even parted with some of his private coffee stash so Bren could have a decent cup, they left the boy cleaning up and sat in the living room.  On the low coffee table, sat two small packages wrapped in bright paper.  The redhead nodded toward them.

"What are those?"

Crawford smiled smugly.  "Did you think you could graduate without something to commemorate the event?"

"Awe… Braddy I didn't know you cared."

"Don't call me that.  And I don't… the one from me will be useful."  Bren tried a quick probe but the man's shields were impenetrable as always.  He wanted to know what was in the box, dammit!

Nagi suddenly just appeared, dropping down to sit on the couch on the other side of him.  "Did you like dinner, Schu?"

"Schu?"  He looked at the boy, one eyebrow raised.  The kid's face faltered.

"Err…" He looked uncomfortable.

Bren put an arm around him and pulled him against his side.  "S'okay kid.  I don't mind… just don't tell anyone else, I have a reputation to protect after all."  He ignored Crawford's snort.

"Okay."  Nagi was smiling again, that was a good sign.  "Do you want your gifts now?"

"Sure."

He reached forward, and having taken which one was which from the boy's mind, grabbed the box from Nagi.  In the time honored tradition he shook it, even though it had been over a decade since anyone had given him a gift.  It didn't rattle and the box felt oddly light.  He ripped the paper, not acknowledging the muttering from the American, and then deliberately dropped the torn paper on the floor.  He was bound and determined to have fun tonight, screw Braddy.

Inside was a simple white gift box.  Sensing the boy's anticipation he looked the box over as if trying to guess the contents.  Nagi was practically vibrating beside him so he took pity on the kid and opened the lid.  He parted the tissue paper and pulled out… a yellow scarf, identical in all respects to the one he had.  He looked at the boy, perplexed.

"Um… I noticed that yours is… well…"

"A little worse for wear?"

"Yeah… and well… I thought since you always wear it… um… you might want a new one so you don't have to worry about that one falling apart or something."

There was no way for Nagi to know.  Hell, no one knew anymore.  But the scarf had belonged to his grandmother…the only person who had ever truly cared for him.  When she died, he'd taken the scarf, it was the only piece of his life before that he had or wanted.  That Nagi realized how precious it was to him… that meant the boy was a lot more observant than he'd given him credit for, he'd have to watch him more closely in the future if he wanted to keep anything secret.

"Thanks brat, that means a lot."  He pulled the old, worn, and admittingly fading scarf from his head, and tied the new one on in its place.  He took the scrap of fabric, that for some reason still meant so much to him, and folded it carefully, laying it in the tissue and closing the box.  "There… and that will protect it."  He smiled at the kid and ruffled his head.  "So how did you manage to get this?"

Nagi smiled and ducked away from his hand.  "I told Crawford what I wanted and he found it for me."

Bren turned and looked at the man.  The American just shrugged.  "Are you going to open the other one?"  The redhead smirked and reached for the other package.  If Nagi's was surprisingly light, this one's weight surprised him.  He tried shaking it and heard a faint rattle… but not enough to indicate what it might be.  Again, he tore into the paper, dropping on the floor; he was going to milk this night for all it was worth.  Inside he found a plain gray plastic case.  Releasing the latch, he opened the case to find…

A gun.

Not just any gun, but the kind he favored on the shooting range.  Also in the case was a spare clip and the other assorted necessities of a dedicated enthusiast.  He looked at Crawford.  "Not that I mind, but why a gun, I have one."

"You have one that belongs to Rosenkreuz.  You have to return it.  Esset will give you a standard issue handgun, but I know you favor this one."

He couldn't resist, he took the gun out of its protective cocoon and checked it over like a kid with a new toy at Christmas.  He didn't even try to disguise his grin.  Crawford chuckled.  "You can take it out to the range and play with it tomorrow."  

Bren had to repress the shiver that ran through him at the man's words.  Did he have any idea how sexy he sounded?  Probably not… the man was practically asexual as far as Bren knew.  "I'd love to… 'play with it'."  He stroked the gun suggestively… why not; you only lived once after all.  The American's eye brows raised and he just looked at the redhead.  

"Nagi… I believe it is time for you to go to bed.  You have classes in the morning."

The boy sighed.  "Yes, Brad.  Good night.  Good night, Schu."

"Night, Brat."

Nagi wandered off to the room he shared with the German.  Bren watched him go, and then turned a calculating eye on Crawford.  "So… now that the kid is out of the way… what did you have to tell me you didn't want him to hear?"

"Perceptive of you."

"I'm not just a pretty face."

"You aren't even a pretty face."

Bren just stared at the man.  "Who are you and what have you done with Brad Crawford?"

"What?  I can't make a joke?"

He snorted.  "You, joke?  You'd have to remove the stick first."

"Will you accept that I'm unwinding a bit because it's your special night?"

"That… I MIGHT believe.  I'd be happier if you would tell me what the hell you're planning."

Suddenly, Crawford's playful mood evaporated.  "My plans are my own."  He stood and headed for his room.

"Oh no you don't, you bastard.  I want some answers."  He left the gun, no sense having the temptation to shoot the asshole, and followed Brad to the door, stopping the American from closing it with his foot.  Crawford glared at him.

"Remove your foot."

"No… you've been putting me off for years dammit and I want some answers."

"Well you don't always get what you want."

With a growl, the pissed redhead tried to force his way into the American's room.  Crawford's eyes went flat.  As Schuldich gained entry, he met a fist to his gut.  The German fell to the floor, winded.  Damn.  He'd forgotten the American's hand to hand combat skills.  He curled up on the carpet trying to get his breath back.  He sensed more than heard Crawford squatting down beside him.  He cracked an eye open, tensing if he needed to defend himself.  But the American was just staring at him.

"Are you okay?"

"Fuck you."

Crawford's frown deepened.  "Don't do this.  I will NOT tolerate you questioning me or my orders.  You will obey them.  Just as Nagi and Farfarello will."

"Or what?  You'll beat them too?"

"If I have to."

"You lay on finger on the kid…"

"I will only do it if need be.  I don't foresee that happening for a long time.  So, are you going to be able to work with this, or will I have to cut you loose right now."

Bren froze.  Brad would do that.  He would turn the redhead out in a second if he thought it wouldn't work out.  What would happen to Bren then?  He shuddered to think about it.  Could he work like this?  Could he work for the bastard without knowing what they were even working for?  He didn't have a choice.  He nodded.

"Good.  Now that that is settled… I can fill you in on a few things.  But don't think this will always happen this way.  I will tell you… when you need to know.  Not before.  That way, no one will find out, and maybe, we might even survive this."  He stood and moved into his room, but left the door open.  Bren rolled onto his knees then got to his feet.  The man knew exactly how hard to hit.  If he had wanted to… he could have killed the redhead with that blow.  As he followed the American into his room, he glanced over to the other bedroom door… and saw a single midnight blue eye peeking around the door.

TBC


	29. Bedtime

**_Rosenkreuz… sweet Rosenkreuz_**

**Chapter 29: Bedtime**

AN: The part EVERYONE'S been waiting for… enjoy! ^_^

Well… that was interesting.  Bren was sitting on the floor next to Crawford's bed.  The man had just outlined some of his plans for Schwarz and the future, and what Esset's true plans were.  Not all of them of course, Brad had warned him that he wasn't going to tell him everything.  But he had told him enough.  Once again, the German was very glad that he had been chosen by the American.

"So?"

"Hmmm?"  Bren looked up at the American.

"So?  What are you thinking?"

"That you're an asshole."  He responded, without even really thinking about it.

Brad laughed.  "You're not thinking that but good try."

"Actually I'm thinking I got lucky."

"I'm not going to ask exactly what you mean by that."

Bren scowled.  "Well… YOU certainly don't seem interested."

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, come ON Brad… I've only been trying to get you in bed for years."  The man's expression was… odd.  Bren didn't know how to interpret it.  "Brad?"

"Don't call me that."  The man turned away from him.  "I… I didn't think you were serious.  You don't really know…"

"DON'T you fucking tell me I don't know what I'm asking.  After everything that bastard has done I think I know exactly what I'm asking for."

"And what are you asking for?"

Damn… if the man would just fucking turn around so he could see his expression.  "Well… hell… I'm not asking for undying commitment here… I just want…"

"Yes?"

"Oh, forget it."  He stood and started to head for the door.  He didn't know what he wanted he guessed.  He stopped when Crawford grabbed his arm.

"Bren…"

He could count the times Brad had called him by his real name on one hand.  "Yeah…"

"Turn around."

He did and his chin was immediately caught by the American's hand, gently cupping and lifting it.  "Wha…"

"Shhh…"  Brad's mouth descended on his own, kissing him softly.  

Bren was stunned; he never realized kissing could have such an effect on him.  He'd never been kissed before.  Schultz certainly couldn't be bothered and his 'clients' had never been interested in his mouth, unless it was wrapped around their cocks.  But this… this soft exchange of caressing touches… it was intoxicating.  He never wanted it to end.  He whimpered slightly when the brunette pulled away, leaving him feeling bereft.

The American rest his cheek against the redhead's.  "bren… i don't want to do anything you don't want… i know what he's done… i don't want to hurt you like he has…"  His voice was soft, his breath tickling his ear.

"you won't… please… i want to know what it is supposed to be like.  i want it to be you."

Brad nodded and took off his glasses, setting them on the bedside table…

If I was REALLY evil… I would stop right here… but since Christmas is this week… and I'm feeling generous… ^___^

Brad nodded and took off his glasses, setting them on the bedside table.  He pulled gently on Bren's arm, drawing the redhead over seating them on the edge of the bed.  "If you don't like something or want me to stop, tell me."  The German nodded.  "I mean it, tell me."

"Okay."

Satisfied, the brunette leaned in and kissed him breathless again.  The redhead didn't quite know what to do, before sex was something that was done to him, he'd never REALLY been a participant.  One hand inched forward to touch the American's thigh.  When Brad shifted, he snatched his hand back, thinking he'd done something wrong.  Without breaking their kiss, the brunette caught his hand and placed it back where it had been.  Encouraged, Bren let both his hands stroke the man's thighs, occasionally wandering up as far as his hips.

Finally the need to breath parted them.  While Bren gasped, the older man's mouth traveled down his jaw to lightly nip at the flesh of his neck.  The redhead squirmed a little uncomfortable with that, Schultz liked to 'mark' him there.  Brad pulled away though, whispering an apology.  He tugged off the telepath's shirt, then stroked the bared skin of his chest with careful fingers.

It might have been five minutes or fifty while Brad divested them of their clothing, all the while kissing and touching him so gently.  Bren found himself getting hotter the softer the man caressed him.  He'd had clients before that were fairly gentle, that wanted him to enjoy the experience, but none of them inflamed him this way, making him want more.  Eventually they were both naked, beneath a sheet, Brad running his fingers through the flame-red hair.

"Brad…"

"Yes?"

Of course the man already knew what he was going to ask, he could see it in the brunette's eyes.  "Will you…"

"Yes."

As in everything else Crawford did, he was methodical and thorough in his preparation of the redhead.  Only when Bren was writhing, nearly begging, did the brunette settle in between his parted legs.  Even then he paused, staring deep into the German's eyes he stroked a lock of hair from Bren's face.  "Ready?"

He nodded, unable to speak for the sensations running through his body.  There was pressure at his entrance, then… no pain, he hadn't thought that was possible, but Brad slid into him without causing any pain.  "Are you comfortable?"  He nodded.  The precog withdrew; just a little bit, and then pressed back in.  It felt good… but it wasn't enough and Bren arched up, trying to force Brad's shaft deeper.  The American chuckled, but then quit being quite so careful.

He was sure he felt that first deep thrust in the back of his throat.  He would have cried out, if his brain had been able to connect to his vocal cords, but he was currently short circuited by the impulses coming from the nerves lower in his body.  He must have made some indication of how good it felt, since Brad did it again… and again.

The man settled into a hard, fast rhythm.  Now that they had gotten this far, neither one had the endurance to last long.  This time was about pleasure and fulfillment, hopefully there would be moments in the future for slow, torturous encounters.  Orgasm snuck up on Bren, suddenly crashing over him as he clutched at Brad, his entire body tense and straining.  He supposed he might have screamed, but honestly he wasn't sure.  He was aware of the man stiffening on top of him and a warmth surging inside him… then nothing.

**

When he opened his eyes again, Brad was laying beside him, running his fingers through Bren's hair again.  He smiled slightly, the first honest smile the German had seen on his face.  "How do you feel?"

"I'll let you know when I can think again."

"I'll take that as a complement."

"You should.  I'm so tired…"

"Sleep then."

"I suppose I should go back to my room."

"If you really want to."

"Then I can stay?"

"If you want to."

"Good… cause I'm not really sure that I could even find the door right now."

Brad chuckled again.  "Go to sleep."

Bren did.

TBC

AN: I hadn't planned on writing this part before I went on vacation… but I'm procrastinating… I don't want to clean the kitchen.  I really don't have much of a choice since my mom and sister arrive tomorrow!  Anyways… my loyal readers, consider this is your Christmas/Yule/Hanukkah/Kwanzaa/Shogatsu gift.  ^___^

BTW… if you leave a review… PLEASE include an email addy, or email me privately if you don't want your email public.  Often I want to respond to a comment, or want to ask a question about a review… having no way to contact people is very frustrating.  (Ask Ami and Kiki… they are the ones that usually see me complain in the IM chat. ^_~ )


	30. In Training

**_Rosenkreuz… sweet Rosenkreuz_**

**Chapter 30: In Training**

He wasn't sure that it was wise to allow Nagi to remain behind when they left for Bren's first training mission.  The boy seemed to be coping fine with his classes... and he was still the 'pet' of most of the teachers, but his peers.  Jealousy was second nature to most of the students.  Jealous of those with more power, with more favor, higher grades… Nagi seemed to possess all of those, and so he was the preferred target.  Now that Schuldich was back, no one was crazy enough to overtly attack the Japanese boy, but their tormenting took on a subtler air.  The kid was frequently tripped in the hall, jostled into the walls, or shoved as he went down the stairs.  He tried to hide the bruises he got both in the halls and from too-rough opponents during his activity period.  But they saw them anyways.

Unfortunately, unless Nagi complained about it… there was nothing neither he nor Brad could do.  They had wanted the boy to toughen up.  It seemed as if the kid was determined not to bother them with his problems.  Bren couldn't help but think it was indirectly because of what he had read in the diary.  Regardless, when the orders came through, he packed his case under the boy's watchful gaze, ruffled the chocolate hair, and left.

**

/Well this sucks./  As usual, if Brad even 'heard' him, he ignored the German.  'Training mission' they called it.  Emphasizing Esset's interests they called it.  Bullying is what HE called it.  Technically they were here, in this small Italian villa, to check up on one of the organization's 'trusted' underlings.  Not too trustworthy obviously, since they were there.  The man, a highly placed mafia don, was suspected of not being totally under Esset's control.  Since he was the leading man for the organization in the region, Schu and Brad had been sent in to 'encourage' the man to be a little more… loyal.

Translation… the man wasn't licking enough boots.

That was something that was unofficially taught at Rosenhell… Bootlicking 101… how to suck up to your best advantage.  Regretfully, Bren had never done well in that subject.  Brad on the other hand… he seemed all too good at it.  But at the same time… he managed to maintain his air of personal control.  It was amazing… watching the man kiss up in one moment and then go his own way the next.  Bren, well… he would leave the brown nosing to the expert.  He knew his place… lackey number one… Nagi would be the lackey boy… and Farf… he cringed away from thoughts of that psycho.

He watched his superior… yes he could think that without cringing… loosen his tie.  But not take it off.  Of course not… why get casual and comfortable after dinner.  Or for that matter BEFORE dinner.  Or on the weekend.  No… this was Brad Crawford, Mr. Anal-Retentive himself.

"So… what now?"

"We do our job."

The redhead rolled his eyes.  "No kidding.  I mean what are we supposed to do?"

"Tomorrow we have a meeting with Bertolli and his associates.  I want you there… and presentable."

"I know how to behave."

"Good… see that you do.  You're job is to scan them."

"All of them?"

"Yes.  I have explained that you are my new aide and still learning the ropes so to speak, so they won't be expecting anything out of you."

"Good."

"Regardless… I will.  If there is anything of note, we'll discuss it tomorrow night."

"Joy."

"I suggest you get some sleep."  Bren started to get up and move toward the room Brad had claimed.  "Not with me."  The telepath just stared at him.  "We're on the job."

"So."

"So the job comes first."

He stared at the door after Brad had shut it behind him.  /Asshole./

**

As the days and weeks passed, Bren started to wonder if he didn't just dream the whole experience.  The events of his graduation night were never repeated.  Crawford seemed to have forgotten what had occurred.  But Bren didn't.  He had the hormones of the young, and Brad's continued rejection of his advances was really pissing him off.  Then add in Nagi continuing problems with his classmates and having to try to train Farfarello, the redhead was in a perpetually bad mood.

He did NOT like the Irish lad.  He'd told Brad many, MANY times.  But the man insisted that he work with the psycho.  Thank goodness the jerk didn't have the crazy kid move in with them; it was hell just to see him once a week.  Besides, if Farfarello lived with them, there was a distinct possibility they wouldn't wake up in the morning.  The kid was good with knives… a little too good.  It was damn scary.  If… and it was a big IF… they could find a way to control the Irishman, he would be very good in a fight, if not… well… let's just say 'old age' wouldn't be a problem.

He was learning something else during his excursions with Brad.  Subtlety.  Being subtle wasn't particularly effective in Rosenkreuz.  You had to be pretty heavy-handed, very vocal, or obviously powerful to make it.  The subtle and sneaky were marked by the underlings they 'employed', bodyguards if you will.  And none of his admittingly few and pathetic instructors had been remarkably subtle, he wasn't sure if it was because they weren't capable of being 'delicate' with their powers, or if they just didn't bother.  Through trial and error, Bren was learning how to use a toothpick instead of a sledgehammer.  Brad admitted that there were times that a sledgehammer was necessary, but he was right that delicacy was often just as successful… and certainly more subtle.

Bren hated subtle.

But he would do what he had to do, because the alternative wasn't pleasant.  He wasn't a particularly obedient soul, and Brad was cutting him a lot of slack at times, but for the most part he was following orders.  

He still couldn't wait till they left Rosenkreuz permanently.  Passing Schultz in the hall still gave him the creeps.  And part of him wondered since he was now out of the man's reach, what poor soul now had the sadist's attention.

TBC…

A/N: Yeah I know… short… and nothing happens.  But I found it next to impossible to write over my vacation, I was very busy while my mom and sister were here… and during the time I was visiting Koe in Singapore… let's just say I had other things to do.  Like shop… for clothes and anime and go to the movies and all those things I CAN'T do on Hirado.  But I knew my readers would want something so here are a few crumbs to tide you over till I can get my brain in gear and write something decent.  Ja! -Yan


	31. Something's Brewing

**_Rosenkreuz… sweet Rosenkreuz_**

**Chapter 31:  Something's Brewing**

Something big was brewing, Bren could just feel it.  Every upper level operative he passed, was fairly buzzing mentally.  But everyone was holding their knowledge close and he couldn't catch a glimpse of what was going on.  It was damn frustrating.  He was one of the strongest telepaths Esset had ever possessed, but those in the upper levels had shields that could still deflect him, unless he wanted to seriously focus on breaking them, but that was neither subtle nor wise.  The guards such people employed would be all over him in a minute.  No… if he wanted to find out what was going on, he'd have to wait for someone to tell him.  Someone like his immediate superior.  Someone like Brad.  But it was harder to get information out of Braddy-boy than it was to get Nagi to tell him what was wrong.  Translation: next to impossible.

Until Brad was ready.

Therefore, Bren's job was to convince Mr. Tight-lips that he was ready to let Bren in on the big secret.  Slight problem.  They hadn't seen hide nor hair of Brad Crawford for close to a week.  At first the telepath had welcomed the break.  They had been running all over the world, on little 'training missions'.  The opportunity to sleep in the same bed for a week was a refreshing change.  As was seeing the Brat again.  After a little 'pressure' from Brad, the boy's powers had been unlocked and training in using them begun in earnest.  That was another clue that something big was in the works… and most likely involving them.

All it took was a couple instances of Nagi having to 'push' back with his power to keep the jackals off him.  It wouldn't last of course, but for now, they didn't regard the Japanese boy as worth the effort and turned their attentions toward easier targets.  Bren had observed one of the Brat's training sessions the other day.  The kid was damn powerful, and if he didn't learn some control he was going to be a serious liability.  Fortunately, the tk instructor assigned to the boy seemed to be more competent than the tp instructors Bren used to have.  Then again, ANYONE would seem competent next to the Bitch.

He was expecting the headache from that thought and she didn't disappoint.  She was getting predictable and seemed to be sulking in fact.  Probably pissed that she hadn't had a successful 'attack' on his psyche for a while now.  He could feel her at times, slithering through his mind like the snake that she was.  He walled off the more vulnerable parts of his mind, but he couldn't completely seal her off.  She figures out how to escape every 'cage' he stuck her in, given time.  Sometimes he still did it… just to give himself a couple days rest and to piss her off.  He figured he'd been annoying her for this long, why stop now?

Tonight he was happily sprawled across the couch, watching some American action movie; thank goodness for Brad and his insistence Bren learn English… he'd never get any good TV if he hadn't.  Nagi was sitting in his usual spot, on the floor right in front of the redhead, frantically studying for the end-of-year tests.  As far as Bren could tell, the kid was carrying a course load and a half, judging from the pile of books in front of him.  It was a good thing the Brat was so smart; he had barely been able to read his own language when he'd arrived.  Not much in the way of schooling out there on the streets… except for the school of hard knocks.  But the kid just seemed to absorb learning like a dry sponge.  He still had a lot of problems PRONOUNCING English, never mind the German, but he understood pretty much everything they said.  Anything to do with numbers… he was a wiz at.  Same for subjects that required a lot of memorization like dates or formulas.  The only area he was really having trouble in was his physical education classes, and that was mainly because he was so much smaller than the rest of his classmates.

Bren had started taking him out on the shooting range when he was around.  Once they found a weapon small enough for the boy to handle well, they discovered Nagi had a pretty good eye for that as well.  The German wanted to see how he would do with a sniper rifle once he got big enough to use one.  It was a good thing he was able to effectively use a handgun.  Until he got a little more control over his tk… Brad wouldn't let him use it.  Whenever they started taking the boy with them that was.  Bren didn't think they would be waiting for Nagi to graduate.  Even with him skipping a couple years, things were moving too fast, and the American demanding too much of the boy for them to be waiting.  Which brought him back to the main focus of his thoughts.

What the hell was going on?

"Schu?"

He brought his thoughts back to the here and now and looked down at the boy.  "Yeah, Brat?"

A ghost of a smile flitted across the kid's face, the way it always did when Bren used his nickname for the boy.  "Umm… can I ask you something?"

"Shoot."

"Have you… have you killed someone, I mean except for those students?"

He frowned.  "Where's this coming from?"

The boy looked down.  "In my martial arts class… they've been stressing kill shots lately.  And you keep taking me out to the shooting range.  And Onawabe-san… my tk teacher… he's been telling me how to use my powers to kill.  I just wanted to know…"

"You want to know if I've used what I learned here out on missions?"  The boy nodded, not lifting his gaze.  Bren sighed.  "Yeah… I have."  He wasn't surprised when the midnight eyes shot up to meet his.  "Look at it this way.  We're different… for whatever reason.  Call it fate, karma, bad luck… we have powers 'normal'," his voice twisted the word into an insult, "people don't have.  You know what it's like when you're different.  Other people hate you because of that.  They might just ignore you.  Or they might even try to hurt you, or kill you.  I know you've been taught about the Holocaust, the Spanish Inquisition, other times when groups of people have been mistreated or killed for being different.  How do you think 'normal' people would react if they found out I could know their deepest darkest secrets just by being in the same room with them?"

"They wouldn't be happy about it."

"How about you?  What if they knew you could pick up cars or destroy a building, or if you get enough control, reach into their body and make their heart stop?"

"They would be afraid of me… like those other kids on the street.  They used to throw stones at me."

"And what about Crawford?  If they knew he could see the future?"

"They would try to use him."

"So now do you see why we are taught how to kill?  Not because we might like it… but I won't lie… a lot of students and people working for Esset DO like to kill, for different reasons.  But we are taught so that we can protect ourselves and the organization."  He let that sink in for a moment; Nagi seemed to be turning his words over in his mind.  It wasn't that he… or even Brad, WANTED to turn the boy into a killer, just that it would probably become unavoidable.  With the strength of his gift, Nagi would NOT be destined for a desk job.  Either he was a willing participant, or Esset would 'rewire' the boy into what they wanted.  He'd seen it happen before with others that were reluctant to be more 'active'.  They disappeared into a wing adjacent to the Pit and the asylum… and emerged a couple weeks later missing a substantial part of their personality. 

"Do you… do you think I'll…"

"Do I think you'll have to kill?"

"Yeah."

"Maybe.  I hope not.  I don't want you to.  But if it's a choice between you surviving or not… I'd much rather you kill whatever bastard is trying to kill you.  Got it?  You shoot first and don't worry about morals.  The only moral you have is survive."  Nagi seemed a little upset at that thinking, but Bren wasn't overly surprised.  He was only what?  Eleven?  Younger than the redhead was when he first came here.  "I think that's enough studying for tonight, come here and watch the rest of the movie with me."  He tugged the boy up on the couch with him.  Shifting so he was lying down with Nagi lying in front of him.  

After a little while, the boy fell asleep as Bren had known he would.  He tugged the blanket off the top of the couch and draped it over them both.  His free hand smoothed the baby-fine hair, his other arm serving as the kid's pillow.  When the movie was done, he just turned off the TV.  Not wanting to disturb the boy, he settled in to sleep himself.  It was nice, sleeping next to someone.  Since Crawford was being such a bastard about sleeping together while on the job, he hadn't shared a bed with anyone since his graduation night.  He decided he LIKED just sleeping with someone.  As long as that person wasn't Schultz.

**

TBC

Awe… aren't they cute?!  Not really sure where this came from… but it just all came out in one sitting.  (thank you muse for not getting distracted!)  I'm not really sure if that's 'Bren' speaking or all that Esset brainwashing.  But he makes a good case for them.  And the Bitch is still hanging around for the readers who like the idea of her lurking around in there… my my… what a mess he must have in his head, between 'Bren' and 'Schuldich' and the 'Bitch'… it's a wonder he isn't insane… wait, how do we know he isn't… this is mostly from HIS point of view… he would be the LAST one to know if he was insane, wouldn't he?  ^_~

BTW… I picked up the Feb issue of ZeroSum, the manga magazine that carries the new Weiss Side B (and Saiyuki too ^_~ ).  Let me just say… OMG… THAT ISN'T OMI!!!!  IT CAN'T BE OMI!!!... Okay… it was bad enough before but at least he looked like a teenager… now he looks 12!!!!!!!!  I'm not kidding… if I had a scanner I'd scan a pic and post it to prove my point.  I keep trying to find a spot where he introduces himself so I can prove that he ISN'T Omi but I can't find one and by process of elimination that HAS to be him.  -_-;  Well… Ran looks good at least!!!!!   And the cover has a pic of Gojyo (saiyuki) looking REALLY hot!!!  ^____^


	32. Planning for the Future

**_Rosenkreuz… sweet Rosenkreuz_**

**Chapter 32: Planning for the Future**

Un-fucking-believable.  No wonder the kid had been studying his ass off.  He hadn't been getting ready for the year's finals… he'd been preparing for his FINALS… as in the final tests for graduation!  And he passed… that's what had Bren totally shocked.  Little Nagi… little eleven-year-old, couldn't read before arriving, barely able to write his own name… had passed.  Granted… they weren't the highest marks ever received at Rosenhell… but they certainly were respectable… even more so since he had been taking the tests a good four years early!

A corner of his mind wondered how good the Brat would have done if he'd taken the tests when he was supposed to.

And Brad… the one who had engineered this whole 'let's skip the formal education' maneuver, hadn't told him a thing.  Heck, the bastard hadn't even told Nagi the full truth.  He told the kid that he was taking special tests this year, that was it.  Oh, and he told the kid he BETTER pass… accompanied with that glare that said if you didn't he wasn't going to be happy.  And if Braddy ain't happy… EVERYONE knows it.  So what did the kid do?  Studied till he couldn't see straight and managed to pass.

All in all it was making Bren feel somewhat inadequate.

Well if he wanted confirmation that something was in the works this certainly clinched it.  There was absolutely no reason to force Nagi through the tests unless they were going to graduate him early.  And the only reason the administration would consider that, would be if Crawford requested it.  And his Majesty would only request it if he had a plan… a plan that required Nagi.

Who was currently passed out on his futon.  Not that Bren blamed him.  If he had the week the kid had, he'd be passed out too.  He closed the door and went in to see if dinner had magically appeared in the refrigerator.  Nope.  The same crap that had been there the last time he'd looked.

The door opened and closed and Bren could hear Brad hanging up his coat.  "Tell me you brought dinner?"

"Good evening to you too."  Brad sounded a bit annoyed… but since that was pretty much the way he always sounded, the redhead wasn't going to worry about it.  The American dropped his suitcase in the hall and came into the kitchen carrying a large plastic bag.  "Here… dinner."

"Thank goodness."  Bren took the bag and sniffed.  "Chinese?"

"Yes."  The older man poured himself a cup of coffee.  "I 'saw' the lack of dinner and stopped.  Where is Nagi?"

"Sleeping."  He pulled out the cartons then rummaged in the cabinet for plates.  "I'll wake him up later and get him to eat."

"There's some of the sesame chicken he likes."

"I noticed.  You got me my…"

"General Tso's, of course."  He took the plate offered and sat down at the table.  

Bren got some coffee for himself and sat down, eagerly digging into his dinner.  There really was nothing better than take-out Chinese.  Especially when Nagi wasn't awake to cook.  It was a good thing the kid was such a quick study, neither of them could cook decently.  Oh they could handle microwave cuisine… and occasionally a VERY simple recipe, but all in all, it was better to leave the cooking to the boy.  It was either that or try to exist on the biohazardous waste they called food in the dining hall.  Bren preferred his own pathetic attempts to that crap.

Once the edge of his hunger had been taken off, and he had claimed his eggroll, he turned a sly eye on Crawford.  He waited… and sure enough the man looked at him with an annoyed expression.  "What?"

"So what's the Grand Plan o' Master of our Fates?"

"I don't know what you're talking about…"

"Bullshit.  You wouldn't have made the Brat take his GRADUATION tests unless you had something in mind… now spill."

"You really should do something about your language…"

"Yeah, we've argued about that before, tough shit.  Now stop trying to change the subject."

The man made and exasperated sound and Bren resisted the desire to smirk, it would only ruin all the progress he had made.  Brad finished his coffee and wiped his mouth.  The redhead waited patiently though, knowing that he had won this round, but the American was trying to make it clear he was speaking on HIS terms.  Bren was willing to let him have that illusion.

"Fine.  It was essential that Nagi start accompanying us.  However, once we start moving around, we might not be able to return for a good amount of time.  Therefore he had to graduate or else they would never allow him to leave.  Now that he is finished, I can go ahead and assemble my team."

"Field team?!"  Bren blinked.  He hadn't been expecting that.  He knew Crawford was earmarked as a field leader, and had even expected being made part of the man's team, but he hadn't thought it would come so soon.

"Yes.  I submitted the paperwork today, as soon as the boy's test results were posted."

"Well… fuck…"  He sat back, trying to sort this all out.

"Indeed.  Provided there are no problems, and I don't foresee any… we will be able to start team training by the end of the month.  We must be ready for active status within a year if we are to be in place."

"In place… for what?"

"I can't tell you."

He clenched his fist and reminded himself that Braddy had been remarkably forthcoming tonight.  Still… the man knew just how to frustrate him.

"Oh… and we have to start working with the fourth member of the team."

"Fourth member?"

"Yes, remember, all field teams have a minimum of four members.  With my choices, I don't see the need for more."

"Okay… you, our illustrious leader, me, the Brat… and…"  Brad just sat there looking at him.  "Oh no… no… don't tell me."  He smiled, his glasses reflecting in the way they always did when he was being particularly evil.  "Fuck… no… he's crazy… you know, like certifiable!"

"He will be a member of Schwarz."

"Come on Crawford…  I can't stand to be in the same room with him for more than a half hour!"

"Then I suggest you GET used to working with him… cause like it or not, Farfarello is coming with us."

**

I knew he wouldn't like it.  I found it immensely amusing to watch his face as he realized who our fourth teammate would be.  It made putting up with all his bitching and complaining worth it… almost.  That is something he will have to tone down… or I won't be responsible for my actions.  But watching Schuldich go off on his tirade about Farfarello was the most entertainment I've had in months.  I would rather not try to work with the Irishman either.  But he was essential.  Of that my gift had assured me.  I wasn't sure how or why yet… but Farfarello would be important, as would Nagi… as would Schuldich.  All of us, working together… that was the only way things would work.  Well… the way I wanted them to work anyways, for the future I wanted.

As I knew it would, the redhead's ravings managed to wake the boy.  He stumbled out, rubbing his eyes, looking far too young for what I was going to ask of him.  Heck, we all are, but especially him.  Schuldich cuts off his complaining to fix the boy a plate, handing it to him along with a glass of milk and a pair of chopsticks.  Milk!  I think Schuldich is more of a mother than the boy's own was.  Taking a look at the boy, I do have to admit I've been a bit too demanding of him of late.  He has always been unusually pale for being Japanese, but he seems paler somehow.  There are faint circles under his eyes, which are red rimmed.  His face seems somewhat strained.

I push him hard, I know this.  But he pushes himself even harder.  I wouldn't ask what I do of him, what I will of him, if there was another option.  But there isn't, not for him.  Schuldich… he could have gone another way.  He would have done okay… but nowhere near as well as with my team.  But Nagi… he only has one successful option.  Even so… I occasionally have an unsettling feeling about him.  There will come a time when he will have to make a choice… and that choice will affect us all.  I only wish I could see which way he would go.  But my power isn't that selective… and until he makes that choice… I won't know how it will turn out.  I can see the different possibilities… but not the end result.  But that time is years in the future, and despite what Schuldich might think, I don't always plan THAT far ahead.

There are times however… like the first time I caught sight of that redhead in the courtyard.  The time I turned the corner into that alley and saw the waif.  The time I stood on that freezing dock and saw that pale kid in shackles.  The first time I met the fossils in charge… and knew with complete certainty what my fate would be if I followed them without question.  Mine may not be the most reliable of gifts… but it has its moments.

Just as Schwarz will.

We will have our moments.  I can only hope they will be good ones.

**

TBC

Okay… now my muse is freaking me out.  Two parts… in a row… in one sitting no less.  I can tell this is going to be a busy weekend.  Good… maybe I can get some of my unfinished crap done!  ^___^  Maybe it's because I informed my muse that we were NOT going to start anything new till we finished some stuff up… she really wants to work on this dark angsty Nagi fic, but I won't let her yet.


	33. First Training Day

**_Rosenkreuz… sweet Rosenkreuz_**

**Chapter 33: First Training Day**

These were the days when he really hated his job.  No… that wasn't it exactly… it wasn't the job… it was the people he had to work with.  Brad Crawford stood in the shower and let the hot water pound against his skin.  

-flashback-

_The day had started out well enough.  Nagi had lost that half-dead look, Schuldich had kept his sarcastic comments to himself, his coffee was just right and he even had a paper to read with breakfast.  Then came their first team training session.  They went to a part of the complex that was designed for group training; fortunately they were the only ones currently using the facilities.  They reached the room where they would be shown some training videos.  Then the fourth member of their team was brought in._

_Instantly he had to warn Schuldich to keep his mouth shut.  Nagi didn't look comfortable, probably picking up on the tension, and was staring at Farfarello.  It was then he remembered this was the first time those two had seen each other.  He had gotten them to sit as the first video started.  He sat at one end with the Irish teen next to him, so he could keep a better eye on the kid.  Schuldich had put the boy in between himself and Farfarello.  Everyone seemed to be paying attention to the video, a standard 'Esset is everything, humble yourself before our glory, be honored we take the time to train you, loyalty until death'… what Nagi calls brainwashing.  He's right.  It's all propaganda… and if they were the type of agents Rosenkreuz usually turned out, they wouldn't even notice and swallow it whole._

_After the video they had a ten minute break before the next one.  That was when the troubles started.  He knew Schuldich was making comments that Nagi, and possibly Farfarello could hear.  The poor Japanese boy's face was red, so the German's words certainly weren't appropriate.  Beside him, the Irish kid was getting fidgety.  They made it through the next video before everything just exploded._

_In hindsight, he should have paid more attention to exactly what the redhead was saying.  He had just figured it was his usual griping about being there; watching the videos, stuff like that.  Apparently his comments were related more to their fourth team member and what Schuldich was finding in his mind.  Without warning, Farfarello suddenly lunged out of his chair at the German._

_They would apparently have to find a better straight jacket since Farfarello was related to Houdini and his fidgeting served to release him.  Now free, the young man attacked Schuldich, who never being the type to back down and quite a hothead himself, fought back.  Poor Nagi ended up trapped in the middle and powerless under the injunction he'd given the boy not to use his powers unless told to._

_It was like trying to break up a fight between two alley cats.  Two very big and very dangerous alley cats.  The entire situation was suddenly more serious when the Irish teen 'found' a knife on Schuldich.  It evolved into a struggle for the blade as Crawford tried to separate them or get Nagi out of the way without getting killed himself.  He was finally able to get a good strike in causing Farfarello to falter, which gave Schuldich the opportunity to knock the Irishman out with a kick to the head.  As the pale teen fell, the redhead turned… and met Crawford's fist with his face._

_"I expected better from you, Schuldich."  He turned and knelt by the youngest boy._

_"Fuck Crawford… that hurt.  The asshole jumped me."  The German gently touched his face, and then looked over the couple knife slashes he'd gotten._

_The American was still checking Nagi, who was just huddling on the floor.  "I don't really care right now.  You should have thought about your OTHER teammates."  It was like the light bulb had just been turned on._

_"Shit… Nagi?"_

_Crawford stood up.  The boy was mostly just frightened.  Oh, he'd have some bruises no doubt, but he hadn't been marked by the knife, and that had been the American's true concern.  He turned toward the stirring Farfarello; his injuries were more extensive, especially the blood pouring down his face.  Crawford picked up the straight jacket, and before the younger man was fully aware, buckled him back in.  _

_"this isn't going to work…"  Schuldich muttered._

_He looked over to see the redhead had pulled Nagi practically into his lap and was rubbing his back soothingly.  "It would have been fine if you could have kept your mouth shut.  This WILL be our team, you damn well better get used to it."_

_"But…"_

_"If I hear another word out of you right now, I will beat you black and blue."  Schuldich's mouth snapped shut.  The American nodded and hauled the half aware Irishman to his feet.  "I will take him to the infirmary… return to our rooms, I'll deal with you later."_

-end flashback-

Now it was later and he had to decide what to do about Schuldich.  He couldn't just leave the situation… that would undermine his power over the group.  And especially where Farfarello and Schuldich were concerned, he HAD to be seen as the dominant one, or they would never follow orders.  Nagi… well, it was considerably easier to get his cooperation.  The boy wasn't interested in being in control, which was a very good thing considering his power level.  Besides, he was still a lot bigger than the boy.  They should probably get him checked out again; he wasn't really growing the way he should.

He ducked his head under the spray again before reaching down and shutting off the water.  What to do about Schuldich?  He stepped out and toweled himself dry.  His threat earlier hadn't been an idle one and Schuldich had known it.  If the redhead had spoken he would have WISHED Farfarello had gone at him again.  But he hadn't said anything… so if he was going to be a leader and not a dictator… he couldn't actually beat Schuldich now.  Even though he really wanted to.

He pulled on his robe.  What else would the German respond to?  He could talk to him, but he doubted that words would hold the next time the redhead saw the Irish kid.  Children… he was dealing with children.  The only thing Schuldich cared about, except for his own skin, and perhaps Crawford a bit… was Nagi.

He frowned thoughtfully.  Nagi could be used as leverage… but he was reluctant to pull the boy into a situation that wasn't really his fault.  Perhaps if he just threatened… then spoke with the kid later and tell him that he wouldn't really carry through… that might work.  Pulling on the sternest face he could, he left the bathroom.

Schuldich and Nagi were on the couch, the boy curled up against the redhead, already half asleep.  He sighed inwardly, but this had to be done.  "Nagi… go to bed."  The boy blinked a couple times, suddenly awake and sat up.  He looked at Crawford's face… then Schuldich's, and nodded.  Silently, he left the room, closing the bedroom door behind him.  The redhead watched him go then looked back at the dark-haired man; he plastered a mocking smirk on his face.  Crawford knew… it was a farce.  The German was very unsure where he stood and was trying to appear unphased.

"Now… about your behavior today…"

TBC…

Yeah… back to the evil cliffhangers I know.  Be happy I was able to coax my muse to work this much… she really wasn't interested after last weekend's writing marathon.  But on a happy note… I got to the used manga store in Nagasaki again.  Picked some things up for friends ^_~  and a couple things for me, including a couple beautiful Kaworu/Shinji djs.  Also finally got an anime 2003 calendar… Hikaru no Go… I know at least a couple people who will be very jealous.  ^_^


	34. Blind Anger

**_Rosenkreuz… sweet Rosenkreuz_**

**Chapter 34: Blind Anger**

He knew he'd really done it this time.  But as soon as that madman was brought in… He only wanted to know why Crawford was so determined to have the psycho with their team.  Between himself and his Majesty and the Brat… they were already powerful enough.  So what about the rules… Crawford had twisted them before.  What was SO special about that insane freak that they… well, HE had to work with him?

As soon as Farfarello was brought in; well… he started to take a look around in the madman's head.  The guy was insane, he probably wouldn't even notice.

But he did notice.  And he took exception to Schuldich rummaging around in his mind, like someone at a yard sale.  So of course, Schuldich being who he was… had to dig around a little more.  It certainly was interesting in there.  Apparently when he was younger, the psycho had killed his own family… but being so wonderfully delusional… he convinced himself that 'God' was responsible for everything.  His entire purpose now centered on getting back at that shadowy deity.  Yet at the same time a part of that fractured mind was insisting that all the rhetoric about said deity, the whole all-powerful, all-knowing, all-loving garbage was true.

Then Schuldich started looking around a little more… finding more and more things that were just wrong.  The Irish teen shouldn't be this disturbed… this violent.  It was more than his fractured personality and inability to feel pain… that was an interesting tidbit… there were other things that were just… wrong.

He had been getting close to the core of that wrongness… when the psycho, who was supposed to be safely restrained, leaped out of his chair and attacked him.

The redhead had to admit, he'd been taken by surprise.  He didn't expect the kid to get out of the straight jacket… he wouldn't make that mistake again.  It had been nice, being able to physically fight; he hadn't had the opportunity for a long time.  He did feel a bit guilty that the Brat had been trapped in the middle of it though.  He had forgotten the boy was there.  He thought the sudden violence in Farfarello's mind had leaked over into his for a bit.  It wasn't until Crawford had punched him in the face that he'd fully come back to himself.

Then seeing Nagi on the floor… that was worse than the punch to the face.

Especially when he realized that he was partially… okay FULLY at fault for putting the boy there.  If he hadn't ignored the madman when he'd ordered the redhead out of his mind, the psycho wouldn't have attacked him and the Brat wouldn't have been caught in between them.

Said boy was currently curled up against him on the couch.  Bren could tell he wasn't quite sure what to make of what happened today.  Not having been aware of what happened in their heads, all the boy had heard was his audible comments.  What had been going on silently had been much more intense and really touched off the altercation.  To Nagi it must have seemed as if the pale teen had just attacked the redhead out of the blue.  Attacked the person the Japanese boy regarded as a brother of sorts.  Given the fierceness of the psycho's appearance, Nagi was already intimidated and on edge.  Then to have Farfarello suddenly free and attacking Bren…

No wonder the kid was upset when it was over.  He'd calmed down once they were back at the apartment.  But they both knew Crawford had to do something. 

Said prick was in shower… thinking hard if the mental static Bren was picking up was any indication.  He might not be able to really get into the man's head, unless Brad let him… but he could tell when the man was thinking exceptionally hard.

What would he do?  Bren knew he was going to be punished in so way… on principal if nothing else.  He heard the water shut off.  The mental static seemed to ease up as well… must have made a decision then.  He pretended to watch the TV… but in fact wasn't even sure what was on.  The Brat really wasn't watching either.  He was a little surprised that Nagi was almost asleep… but he supposed the stress was getting to him.  Then the door to the bathroom opened… and there he stood.  The king in all his glory.  Bren forced a bit of a mocking smile on his face.

"Nagi… go to bed."  

He felt the kid jump a bit.  Then he looked at Brad… then him.  /I'll be fine… go to bed, Brat./

/You're sure?/

/Yeah… and don't come back out… no matter what you hear, okay?/

/But…/  The boy was already moving, reluctantly, but heading for the bedroom.

/Don't worry… I'm too valuable to kill./

/DON'T EVEN JOKE ABOUT THAT!/

/Sheesh… tone it down kid… I was kidding.  Seriously, he won't hurt me that bad… even if it sounds like it./  He watched the door close behind the kid… and just knew that Nagi was sitting just on the other side of it, listening to them.  Bren looked at Brad with a smirk on his face.  When in doubt… be a smart-ass… but he really wasn't sure what was going to happen.

"Now… about your behavior today…"

Hmmm… tell the truth or lie… since the man had probably already seen the possibility of a lie… that wasn't the smart way to go.  Sometimes he wondered if Crawford didn't have a touch of telepathy himself, he always seemed able to see straight through him.  "Yeah?"

One eye brow rose.  "Was there a reason for provoking him or did you just do it to be annoying?"

"Well I didn't do it intentionally?"  Damn that eyebrow… damn that… LOOK.  "Okay so I might have been in his head?"

"Might have?"

"All right yes… I was looking around in there… I was curious."  He got up, too restless to sit any longer.  Besides, this put him on the same level as His Majesty if things got heated.

"And that gave you the right to violate his privacy?"

"Shit yes!  You tell me I have to work with a psycho and I damn well want to know why?  But since getting anything out of you is harder than…"

"Watch your mouth…"

He dropped that line of thinking before he uttered the words.  "I wanted to know what makes him so fucking special."

"I told you to watch your mouth."

"Blow me."  He expected the slap… but it still took him a bit by surprise.  He always forgot how HARD the man could hit.  Course if he had wanted to… he could just kill Bren with one strike.  As it was, he was pushed off balance and staggered a bit.

"Is that what you want?  Do you WANT me to hit you?  Cause right now I'd be more than happy to oblige."

His mouth started moving before he even thought about what a bad idea it was.  "Fuck off!"

This time the blow sent him back on his heels, a second one sending him flying into the wall.  "I don't want to do this Schuldich."

Unfortunately for the redhead, his temper was getting the best of him, again and he couldn't stop talking back.  He really wasn't even paying attention to what his mouth was saying… in several languages in fact.  He just noted the growing anger in Crawford's face.  It seemed as if his mind wasn't in control of himself… like… like he wasn't the one saying these things.  That he wasn't the one taking a poorly thought out swing back at the American.  Then he saw the man's eyes flash dangerously…

**

He was aware of something cold touching his face and flinched away from it.  A hand kept him from moving away.  He opened his eyes… well, one of them, the other didn't seem able to open.  He was laying on the couch now.  "What?"

"Dammit, Bren… why did you do that?"

"What?  I don't remember."

"Getting me so angry.  Making me lose control like that."

"You… lost control… that's a new one."

"It's not funny.  You're too smart to do something like that."

"Honestly… I… I don't remember."  The ice pack slipped a bit and Bren risked looking up into Brad's eyes.  There was confusion there, and concern.

"You didn't seem like yourself."

The pieces started to fall into place for Bren.  Not himself.  Couldn't remember.  Making Brad so angry he beat the crap out of him.  And then he noticed it… a certain satisfied smugness in the corner of his mind.  He sighed.  "It wasn't your fault."

"I didn't mean to do this… I was going to threaten to send Nagi away… I didn't want to hit you."

"Look… I said it wasn't your fault.  It wasn't really mine either… well the part with the psycho…"

"Farfarello."  Even now Brad's voice sounded like he was scolding the redhead.

"Whatever… yeah, that was my fault… my bad judgment.  But tonight… that wasn't your fault… or mine."

"But…"

"Don't ask… it's my problem, I'll take care of it.  It won't happen again."

'The moment' seemed to be over, because Crawford nodded and handed him the ice pack to hold to his own face.  "Good.  See that it doesn't.  And take care of whatever the other problem is.  I won't have it endangering the team."  Bren nodded.  "Go to bed.  We start again tomorrow… and there better not be a repeat of today."

The redhead sighed.  So much for the 'softer side of Brad'.  He noticed the absence of the boy.  "Did Nagi…"

"I haven't seen him."  The American disappeared into his bedroom.  

Bren sighed and pushed himself up.  Crap… even that hurt.  He got to his feet, taking a moment to steady himself, and still holding the icepack, headed for the bedroom.  Opening the door he almost tripped over a small figure huddled next to the door.  Nagi.  The kid appeared to be asleep, but even now he could see the tenseness in the boy's body.  "Yo… kid… you gonna stay there all night?"  The boy jumped and looked up at him.

"Schu!"

"It looks worse than it is."  He wasn't sure how it looked but it sounded good.  "I'm going to bed."  The Japanese boy scrambled up from the floor and quickly got his futon ready.  He wanted to ask, Bren could tell, but since he really didn't want to explain right now, he hoped the boy would let it drop.  He got ready in the dark, not really wanting to look at his face right now.  That nightmare would be faced in the morning.  As he climbed into bed, there was just enough light for him to see Nagi start to open his mouth.  "Not now… tomorrow… 'kay."  The boy nodded and lay down.

But sleep didn't come soon for either of them.

TBC

AN: I'm sure everyone can put 2 and 2 together and figure out what happened.  Actually blame for that idea can be given to Akasha who mentioned in a note that: "She sounds like the kind of person who'd just love to pull one over on him just when he *finally* gets Brad alone in a locked room for a couple of hours."  Well… that didn't quite happen… but it did give me an idea.  Actually I was planning on Brad using the Nagi-trump card… but this is what happens when your muse takes the plot and runs away with it.  *sigh*  Oh… and someone else (can't remember who right now, I'm tired) said they'd be really  happy if the next chapter was about 3000 words… well, this isn't but it's close to 2000… how's that?  ^__^   -Yan


	35. Guinea Pigs

**_Rosenkreuz… sweet Rosenkreuz_**

**Chapter 35: Guinea Pigs**

Forging a team out of four individuals, especially when two didn't want to cooperate, was difficult… on a good day.  Brad had to admit that Schuldich was trying… He was trying EVERYBODY'S patience most of the time, but he was trying.  Farfarello seemed to have settled down a bit, but he was still so unpredictable that they couldn't leave him unobserved when out of his restraints.  Nagi… poor Nagi was confused and stressed, trying desperately to keep everyone happy.  And Brad was wondering how fast he would develop an ulcer.

They were making progress.  They had discovered that oddly enough, Farfarello and Schuldich made the most effective fighting duo.  Occasionally they ended up fighting each other… but when they focused on a common target they were quite good.  Nagi was working with his telekinesis… the only one that was actively training outside the group.  He had graduated from the academic instruction of Rosenkreuz, but the need to have training in the use of his powers was something that they couldn't do effectively.  It wasn't impossible to train someone who wasn't your type of psi… but it was difficult, and time consuming and time was a luxury they didn't really have.  Of course… he was the only one that knew that… and he wasn't going to tell the others.  

Despite what Schuldich might think… he really DIDN'T keep things back to annoy them or prove he had power over them.  It was simply that they didn't need to know at this time.  It would only cause unneeded distraction… which was something they definitely didn't want right now.  It was better for them to focus on the short term goals… and he would worry about the long term ones.

He sighed as Farfarello and Schuldich once again started fighting each other instead of completing the training exercise.

**

Bren groaned… this whole team bonding thing was driving him crazy.  The only thing that consoled him was that Braddy was just as frustrated as he was.  He figured Nagi was the lucky one… HE didn't have to participate in most of the group training sessions.  He looked up as the boy came back to the apartment.  Brad was already locked in his room… refusing to speak to anyone till morning.  Bren frowned, the kid was really dragging.

/You okay, Brat?/

The boy's midnight eyes lifted to meet his and Bren was struck by the exhaustion in them.  "Aa."  

The redhead got up from the couch and started into the kitchen.  "Sit… I'll get your dinner."

"I'm not hungry."

"You need to eat, Nagi."  The boy sighed but went in and sat down.  It wasn't a good sign, the kid not wanting to eat.  Bren knew what it was like to be so tired you weren't hungry.  But the demands the boy's gift put on his body were staggering, especially during the intense training he was going through.  Nagi wasn't exactly in an ideal condition to begin with.  They, being the researchers in Esset, didn't know why physical psi powers seemed to stress the body more, but there was sufficient evidence to support it.  It seemed that the more powerful telekinetics and pyrokinetics had a tendency to run their bodies into the ground.  He dished up the soup that was that night's attempt at dinner.  Turning he found Nagi slumped in his chair, head pillowed on his arms.

"Come on, Brat… I know you want to sleep… but you have to eat first."  He shook the boy's shoulder until the kid sighed and sat up.  Reluctantly, Nagi started to eat.  Bren got his own dinner; he'd been waiting for the boy to get home.  "So… how's training?"

"Tiring."

"I can tell.  How is it going though?"

"Alright."

Bren gave up… the boy wasn't in the mood to talk.  Or he quite simply didn't have the energy.  As he watched the boy nodding off, he figured it was the later.  He finished his meal and picked up the dishes.  He was strangely reminded of their first night together when he picked Nagi up and carried him into the bedroom.  

He set the boy on the bed, then lay out the futon and tucked the boy in.  Midnight eyes just barely opened, looking up at him.  /Night, Brat./  A ghost of a smile, and the eyes closed.

Bren closed the door behind him, though he doubted anything would wake the kid back up tonight.  It would be a good time for him to do a little 'training' of his own.  Getting comfortable on the couch… he let his mind wander through the facility… and the minds of those there.

**

It was during one of those private 'training sessions' that Schuldich discovered the source of at least SOME of their resident psycho's problems.  He was jumping from mind to mind, much like a college student hopping from bar to bar, when he happened across the mind of one of the research assistants.  These people were almost as warped as the doctors Esset employed, though their focus tended to be more on pure science than tormenting their subjects.  Most of them anyway.  Apparently, there was some debate amongst them whether the pale Irishman's inability to feel pain, was a gift… or a side effect.  They were running tests on him when he wasn't in training to try to discover if a) no pain was a previously undiscovered talent, b) if it wasn't did he have a gift, and c) how warped his mind really was.

To answer these questions, they had apparently cracked open the textbooks and journals of the early days of psychological research.  Their methods were quite simply, inhumane, cruel, and altogether ineffective.  As a result, Farfarello was becoming more vicious and unstable.  They couldn't understand why?

Bren's first instinct was to laugh.  Well duh?!  You're torturing him… of COURSE he's going to react in kind.  But then he felt sick.  It was no wonder the guy had been acting the way he had lately… and Bren had only been making it worse.  Crawford couldn't know what they were doing… he would never allow that type of thing to go on… would he?

He waited till he could get Crawford alone.  One afternoon, while Nagi was still at training and Farfarello had become too unstable to work with that day.  Brad was seated at the kitchen table, going over files while Bren was supposedly doing the dishes.

"Brad?"

"Don't call me that."

"Why not… I've done it before."

"It's unprofessional."

He sighed… counted to ten… then sighed again.  "Crawford..."

"What?"

"Have you given them permission to… well… do research on Farfarello?"

"Research?  I authorized them continuing treatment if that's what you mean."

"Treatment?!"  He snorted, derisively.  "If THAT'S treatment, kill me first, please."

The man set down the file he was going over, his brown eyes looking at Bren curiously.  "What do you mean?  They are treating him for his mental problems.  They are trying out combinations of drugs to try to stabilize him."

"No… actually… they're not."

"What?"

"They are using him as some kind of glorified guinea pig."  Crawford just stared at him blankly… a look Bren had come to recognize as surprise.  "They aren't stabilizing him… they are making him worse.  They're treating him as some type of grand experiment to see if they can discover what keeps him from feeling pain… and barring that… they're twisting his mind to see how far it can go before it totally snaps."

"There's no way they are doing that… he's my…"  
  


"Yeah… he's YOUR subordinate you better get your ass down to the ward and tell them that."  Bren stopped ranting and looked down at the sink full of dishes and soapy water.  "He's close to breaking completely.  If that happens…"

"He'll be like a wild animal.  And of no use to anyone.  Why the sudden concern?"

Bren shrugged.  "You keep touting all that shit about being a team… well he's supposed to be a team member… and the more unstable he is… the bigger my headache."

"Ah… I knew self-preservation was in there somewhere.  You are positive they are doing this?"

"Yeah… I can show you their sick minds if you want."

"No… that is quite alright… I'll go look into it."

"Hey, Brat… you're home… crap… what happened to you?"  Nagi stood in the doorway, several dark bruises standing out on his face.  He wavered slightly… then collapsed.

TBC…

AN: Akasha is going to kill me… and Megami isn't gonna be happy either but it was a struggle just to get this much written before the end of the week and I knew I HAD to get something out.  *curses the annoying muse*  Hopefully I can get some more done this weekend.  We'll see… I discovered today, while trying to determine the birthday of my website (which I missed it was January 3rd -_-; ), Rosenkreuz has been going for a year already… O_o  GAAAAH!!!!!  The fic that won't end… ^_~


	36. Sticks and Stones

**_Rosenkreuz… sweet Rosenkreuz_**

**Chapter 36:  Sticks and Stones**

Surprisingly, Brad beat him to Nagi's crumpled body.  He lifted the boy, cradling his upper body.  There were purpling bruises all along one side of the kid's face.  With deft fingers, Brad opened the uniform jacket and pulled it to the side, revealing bruises that traveled down the neck and under the red t-shirt.  "Pull up the bottom of his shirt; see how far the bruising goes."

Bren pulled the shirt out of the drab pants and sure enough, the skin along the boy's still too thin ribs was also discolored.  He turned and drew up the leg of Nagi's pants, his calf was also bruised.  "Shit… they go all the way down his body."

"But only on the one side, like he fell on it."

"He hit hard, look at his wrist, it's got to be sprained."

"Let's get him up onto your bed and see how serious it is."  With great care, Brad stood with his small burden, moving carefully through the doorways into Bren and Nagi's room.  He set the boy down on the bed and they worked together to ease the child's clothing off without aggravating any potential injuries.  They stripped the kid to his boxers, an action that revealed several problems.  The boy was far to thin to be healthy, and he was bruised on his left side from hairline to ankle.  His left wrist was swollen and undoubtedly sprained if not fractured and when Brad lightly pressed the ribs on that side, Nagi moaned.  "Might be cracked, I don't think they are broken though."  The American checked the midnight eyes.  "He might have a concussion…"

"No shit?!  What the hell happened?  He get tossed down the stairs again?"  Bren's temper was up.  He thought he had put a stop to anybody picking on the Brat… besides himself of course.

"I don't think so… that time the damage was all over… this is focused.  He hit something hard with only this side of his body.  I'm going to get ice for that wrist, see if you can find a bandage in the bathroom."

Bren fumbled through the cabinet, shoving aside half empty bottles of medicine and first aid supplies as well as an errant washcloth or two.  He finally found the rolled-up Ace bandage in the back, under an ancient towel.  The wrap was a little dusty but he didn't think the kid would mind.  He returned to the bedroom to find Brad on his knees beside the bed, holding one ice pack to the boy's wrist and another to his face.

"How's the wrist?"

"It's not broken… well at least it doesn't appear to be.  We'll get it x-rayed to be sure there isn't a hairline fracture or anything like that.  Wrap it up please."  He left the wrist to Bren and checked over Nagi's head.  "He's got a bump on his side.  No choice, we'll have to take him to the infirmary."

Bren grunted his acknowledgement.  Brad knew his opinion of the infirmary… and the doctors working there.  "Oh yes… they were so good to him last time."

"We don't have a choice.  You take him.  I will contact his instructors and see if they know anything."

**

It was turning out to be a long night.  Schu refused to leave his young teammate's side.  The doctors were getting rather surly about it.  But there was no way he was gonna leave the kid.  If he only had 'greenies' to worry about, there would be no problem.  In fact, he'd PREFER them to the 'staff'.  But the chief resident in charge that night had ordered all the healers out, saying the boy's injuries were beyond their experience.  Schu hadn't missed the glare one upper classman had given the doctor's back.  Not only were the 'greenies' perfectly able to handle these types of injuries, they did everyday after all… they probably could have helped the kid recover in less time with a lot less pain.

Schu was sure it was simply another case of Schultz's vile influence.  He would really have to do something about that monster one of these days.

They had taken x-rays, poked and prodded the boy, did the usual tests.  Now… they were just waiting.  The poor brat was lying on a cold table.  They had changed him into one of those ridiculously thin examination gowns.  Schu had taken off his shirt and draped it over the boy, to give him a little warmth.  That was the great thing about having graduated; Schu didn't have to wear the uniform anymore.  Nagi still did, partially because he was still technically 'in training', and partially because it attracted less attention for him.

He didn't like how long this was taking, or how the kid hadn't woken up yet.  He was also a little concerned that the doctors DIDN'T seem to be worried over the boy's lack of weight.  Well… in general the doctors didn't seem concerned about their patients but that was nothing new.  He heard the curtain behind him rattle.  It was the strange LACK of readable thoughts that told him who was standing behind him.  "Find out anything?"

"Training accident."

"TRAINING ACCIDENT?!!!  What the FUCK were they trying to do?"  He turned and met Crawford's cold and angry eyes.

"I've already filed a complaint."

"Filed a complaint?  How's that gonna help?!"

"There IS a procedure I have to follow…"

"I don't."  He muttered under his breath.

"You will NOT get involved in this.  It was a training accident… it happens.  It happened several times with you if I'm not mistaken."

"Yeah… but…"

"But nothing."  He took a deep breath and pulling off his glasses, rubbed his eyes.  "I know… I know you care about him…"

"He's a little brat…"

Crawford continued as if he hadn't heard.  "And you don't want to see him get hurt.  But these things happen.  It will be looked into.  For now, that's all we can do.  I'm going to go and demand some treatment for him."

"I'm not leaving him alone here."

"I know."  The American left to shake up the staff.

**

Brad shook his head as he returned to the apartment.  Schuldich wouldn't be there.  Nagi had been kept overnight for observation, even after he had finally woken up.  The telepath had thrown a fit, then insisted that he wasn't leaving.  The doctors really hadn't had much of a choice in the matter.  Brad understood, he was upset as well.  But he also knew there was nothing to be served by sitting beside the boy.  The training was rigorous, and especially for physical psis, the demands their gifts placed on their bodies was tremendous.  Speaking of which, they would have to find a way to get the boy to eat more, he wasn't taking in enough calories to fuel his body AND his gift.

He unlocked the door and entered the apartment, frowning at the fact they had forgotten to turn off the lights.  Their apartment wasn't free, the rent and utilities came out of their stipend.  He couldn't wait till they could get out of here and get some REAL employers.  The contracts were standardized and there was NO negotiation with Esset.  But a private employer… even when they contracted with Esset for services… then he could negotiate a decent salary.

He looked at the abandoned dishes in the sink, Schuldich hadn't finished them.  He tidied his stack of files; hopefully he could get to them tomorrow.  He was regretting a bit his insistence to have Nagi on his team.  He could have gone with another psi until the boy finished his training at the normal rate.  But something about the kid nagged him.  He couldn't explain why… but he HAD to have Nagi.  He did wonder a bit if the boy was being pushed too hard though.  This accident was a perfect example.

He had spoken the truth, accidents DID happen.  He can remember reading several medical reports on the redhead, for injuries sustained on the training ground or in the combat classes.  And he remembered the condition Schuldich was in after that disaster with Schultz.  At least Nagi's condition was because of actual training.

He wondered a bit at why he wasn't 'seeing' these things?  These problems, with Farfarello and Schuldich, this accident with Nagi… they related to his team, and therefore to him.  So why wasn't he 'seeing' them before they happened?  He was getting mighty suspicious over these omissions.  Perhaps he should add this to his list of things to investigate.  He yawned.  But not now.  He needed to sleep; he had some battles to fight tomorrow.

**

Fortunately he had a great deal of patience.  Brad sat next to the boy's bed, waiting for him to wake up.  Schuldich had refused to leave until Crawford arrived, then he went back to the apartment to get breakfast, and finish the dishes.  He opened up the business section.  It was a new area of study for him; Brad thought his precognitive ability could be useful in the stock market.  He was conducting an experiment right now… having 'invested' an imaginary $10,000 in various companies and was now following their progress.  So far he was 'ahead' by several thousand dollars.

A quiet sound from the bed drew his attention back.  He had insisted on a bed at the end of the ward, so with the curtain pulled around, it was almost as if the boy had a room of his own.  There were only a couple other patients at this time so the infirmary was fairly quiet.  The kid was stirring.  They had disturbed the boy's rest every hour or so all night long so he wasn't overly surprised that Nagi wasn't waking too fast.  He waited till he saw two slivers of deep blue.

"Nagi."  The boy blinked a few times, as if waking was very difficult.  "Nagi… I need you to wake up for a bit."  Another minute or so and those eyes stayed open, then focused on Crawford.

"brad…"  The boy's voice was thin, and shaky.

"Nagi… how do you feel?"

"tired."

"I'm sure.  Are you in a lot of pain… don't try lying."  He added having a flash of the boy doing just that.

He nodded… then winced.  "hai…"

"I'm not surprised.  You have extensive bruises all down the left side of your body.  Your wrist is severely sprained and you have two cracked ribs.  I need you to answer a few questions for me… then I'll get someone to give you some painkillers."  He frowned when the boy shook his head, Schuldich and his aversion to medical assistance was a bad influence on Nagi.  "You WILL take them, or I will have them use an injectable kind and hold you down myself if need be."  He was pleased by the instant obedience from the kid at that point… if only Farfarello and Schuldich could be so well behaved.  "Good."

He pulled out a notepad and pen.  "Your instructor said it was an accident that happened during yesterday's training session.  Was it?"

Nagi hesitated then nodded.

"If you don't feel it was an accident you have to tell me."

"it was… accident."

"Truthfully?"  Nagi nodded.  "Very well.  I want you to tell me what happened.  Take a moment to think about it… then tell me in sequence."

"late afternoon."  Brad nodded and started to take notes.  "the instructor trainee was attacking.  i was supposed to block.  i couldn't.  i got thrown into the wall."

"Where was your instructor?"

"onawabe-san?"

"Yes."

"he doesn't train me all the time."

"So you have a trainee instructor?"

"hai."

"And Onawabe wasn't supervising?"

"iie."

"Does this happen a lot?"

"hai."

"All right.  I'll get one of the healers."

**

Nagi was safely tucked in Bren's bed.  They had managed to get him released late in the afternoon.  Bren had taken him back, and gotten him to eat something.  Brad stuffed some painkillers down his throat and now the boy was peacefully sleeping them off.  The other two were sitting at the table, coffee in hand.

"Let me get this straight… they are letting a TRAINEE teach what is essentially a novice, unsupervised?"

"From what Nagi said, yes."

"Isn't that a little like the blind leading the blind?"

"I've already lodged the complaint."

"Well I guess we know where Nagi's been getting those bruises for the last few months."  Bren muttered.

"Bruises?"

He stared at the American.  "You haven't noticed?  He's had these bruises on his arms and legs.  He won't talk about them though.  I figured they were from training but I couldn't figure out how he was getting them.  But if they have an inexperienced trainer working with him… this might not be the first time he's been knocked around."

The man scowled again.  "I wish you had told me…"

"I thought you knew.  But I guess you don't see him in anything other than his uniform too often."

"From now on… tell me about these little details.  I can't do anything if I don't know."

"And why DON'T you know… oh master oracle?!"

Brad frowned again.  "I don't know.  For some reason… I'm not seeing a lot of things."  Schuldich just stared at him.  "I know.  It's worrying me too."

TBC…


	37. Think then Act

**_Rosenkreuz… sweet Rosenkreuz_**

**Chapter 37: Think then Act**

Bren stared at his ceiling.  He was lying on his back, feet propped against the wall.  Nagi was safely tucked into his bed, doped up on enough painkillers to knock him out; course with the kid being as little as he was it didn't take much.  He was feeling more than a little guilty.  He SHOULD have told Brad about the bruises.  But they didn't seem to bother the kid too much and he never complained about them.  He should have known better.  Nagi was still so pathetically grateful that they had taken him in and given him shelter, food and clothing; that the kid didn't want to complain.  He wondered a bit if the boy still thought they would toss him out if he was a 'bother'.

That could be considered problem number one.

He really thought Brad knew.  After all… Crawford was a fucking precog… wasn't he SUPPOSED to know?!  But something was up with the American as well.  Okay… he should have told him about the bruises.  He had to share a bit of the blame.  As did Brad… as did the trainers… and Nagi himself.  He didn't want to blame the kid for any of it… but the point was… he should have reported it.

Bren rubbed his forehead.  Well… at least they were aware of the problem now… Brad was investigating and they would keep a closer watch on Nagi… not that he would be going out for training for a while.  They could do some basic work right here… nothing to strenuous… just light work.

Problem number two… Farfarello.

Again… something Brad had to handle, mainly putting his royal foot down on the experimenting.  Probably being locked up in the ward wasn't doing any wonders for the teen either.  They had to find a way to get past all that pain and anger on the surface… he should give some more thought to it.

Problem number three… his royal highness himself.

He REALLY wished Crawford had told him he wasn't 'seeing' things.  He supposed having to admit your powers were acting up didn't exactly inspire respect and confidence.  He had the feeling though that the problem lay not so much with Brad… as with some external force.  For a moment, an image of the headmaster came to mind, but the redhead dismissed him.  A telepath, no matter how strong, couldn't really keep a trained psychic from using their innate powers.  Bren could block another telepath easily enough… but he couldn't prevent say a psychometrist from picking up stuff from his belongings.  Their talents just worked in different ways.  Even within a 'family' of talents, telepathy and telempathy for example… one dealing with thoughts… the other with emotions.  Generally if a person had one, they had a bit of the other.  But one talent was the stronger and usually overwhelmed the other.  It was true of most 'psychics'… they all had a touch of the other gifts… talents were simply manifestations of what was latent in all.  

He was very weakly empathic… that was he could pick up strong emotions… but unlike a telempath, couldn't send them out.  A strong telempath could make you 'FEEL' joy, anger, despair… even if there was no reason for those emotions.  Likewise… a trained telempath or if they were weaker and simply empathic… they couldn't sense thoughts… unless in direct contact with another.  Even then it would require a lot of concentration.

They all had faint glimmers of other powers.  He suspected Nagi had a bit of a healing touch.  It wasn't unheard of; the combination of telekinesis and healing resulted in psychic surgeons.  It wasn't unreasonable to think the boy had a bit of empathy as well; he seemed sensitive enough to others.  Brad was a latent telepath, he was certain of it.  The man's shields were so tight he had to be; he was also a bit clairvoyant as well.  But for the most part, the closer in time he got to his 'vision' the less of it he could see.  He had trained his precognitive abilities to the exclusion of anything else, which was Rosenkreuz and Esset's way, that Brad had largely lost any other gifts he might have possessed.

Farfarello… he was an enigma.

If the guy was talented… Bren couldn't find it.  His inability to feel pain… THAT seemed to be more of a manifestation of the man's shattered psyche.  No… Farfarello wasn't gifted the way they were.  But Esset did occasionally bring in fighters and other martially skilled people to 'round out' the teams.

Bren sighed.  Lots of thinking… and no solutions.  Life sucked.

**

He walked back into the apartment to see Bren… no Schuldich waiting for him on the couch.  He had come to realize that 'Bren' and 'Schuldich' were very different creatures… and while 'Bren' was a nice kid… almost an adult, taking his responsibility as Nagi's older brother very seriously… 'Schuldich' was a manipulative bastard.  If he hadn't known the redhead as well as he did… he probably wouldn't have been able to tell the difference.  But there was something about the way he held himself, the slightly harder look in his eyes… and coolness of the smirk… that let him know he was dealing with Schuldich.

"Yes?"

"I think you know."

He nodded and sat down in the armchair.  "You want to know what I've found out about Nagi's accident."

"And what you've done about Farfarello."

"One crisis at a time please."

"We don't have that luxury."

Brad sighed.  "About Nagi… I spoke with Onawabe… he insists that Martin, the trainee he assigned to Nagi is capable.  So I mentioned that he's been coming back with bruises for months.  Onawabe said he'd look into it and rewatch the training tapes."  Schuldich snorted.  "No… I do believe him.  Of any of the instructors, he's the most capable and honest; it could be that this Martin isn't.  Needless to say, I insisted that Nagi only be trained by him when he returns."

"WHEN!"

"Yes.  I told Onawabe that the boy wouldn't be returning till he was healed.  He agreed.  He also commented that he had been intending to speak with me.  He said Nagi has seemed somewhat tired and distracted lately.  It was his opinion that this contributed to the accident.  Apparently the exercise is something he's done before… but this time he was simply too exhausted to block effectively."

"An experienced trainer…"

"Would have picked up on it… I know.  That's what I said.  Martin has been reprimanded… this will be a black mark in his record."

"So there's nothing else we can do?"

"Only take care of Nagi."  The redhead didn't look happy about it… but he nodded.  Brad got up to get a cup of coffee… at this rate he was going to develop a serious caffeine addiction.  "Farfarello is a more difficult matter."

"What?!  You go to the doctors, tell them to stop fucking with him and that's the end of it."

"It's not that simple."

"It never is…"  The German muttered.

"They have an obligation to treat him… to do that, they say they need to run tests.  I can't baby-sit them to make sure they are doing what they are supposed to."

"If you would let me…"

"Absolutely not!  They know I'm watching.  I also told them YOU would be monitoring Farfarello closely.  You have quite a reputation… that should be sufficient to rein them in till we are ready to leave."

"And when will THAT be?"

"We should be getting our first test assignments within the next six months."  He finished his coffee and headed for his room… he was dead tired.

"And your powers?"  Schuldich followed him to his door.

Brad paused and sighed.  "I don't know…  I hope it's just all this uncertainty and stress…"

An arm came over his shoulder while another wrapped around his waist.  "I know how to relax you…"

"Schuldich… Bren… it's not…"

"We're not working… Nagi's asleep… you need to relax… I'm good at it."  He rest his chin on the American's shoulder, pressing his body lightly against Brad's back.  He could feel the man starting to waiver.  "Come on…"  He steered the precog into the room and shut the door behind them.  Brad just watched him, a slightly bewildered look on his face as Bren removed the man's clothes and pushed him toward the bed.  "Lay down."  As the American did that, the redhead dropped his clothes to the floor and grabbed a bottle of lotion from the man's dresser.

Bren joined him on the bed, coating his hands with the lotion.  He sat behind Brad and started to knead the tense muscles of the man's shoulders and neck.  The black-haired man let his head fall forward, sighing a bit as the muscles eased.  After a bit, Bren leaned forward and kiss the back of Brad's neck.  The American twisted slightly to be able to look at him, a vaguely predatory look in his eyes.

The redhead let Brad tumble them to the bed, giving the precog the dominant position he needed.  As the greedy hands and mouth wandered over his body, Bren let all his concerns and worries fade into the background, concentrating on the here and now.  It had been way too long, he thought as his body responded eagerly to the sensations washing over him.  He moaned and arched up against the black-haired man, hoping to get some more of the attention he wanted.

Brad on the other hand, gave him an evil smile and slowed down, touching him only in long, lingering strokes, far away from where Bren REALLY wanted him to touch.  The redhead groaned… but he had started this game… he had to go with it.  It seemed like forever before Brad reached for the lotion Bren had left conveniently close.  Soon, the redhead was parting his legs more, and welcoming the American's burning member into his body.

Bren sighed as the other man slid into him fully.  Wrapping his legs around Brad's hips, the redhead started to rock himself back and forth on that hard shaft causing the American to groan.  With a bit of a growl, the ebon-haired man started to thrust into the telepath, deep and hard.  Their coupling wasn't gentle; both of them too consumed by need to make it so.  Brad plunged into the redhead repeatedly, even as Bren thrust back forcing the man's erection even deeper.  He adjusted the angle of his welcoming hips a bit and nearly howled as Brad's shaft slammed into that pleasure center deep inside.  Taking his cue from the redhead, the American changed his aim and hit the man's prostate repeatedly.

Mindful of Nagi, even though the boy was most likely senseless, the German bit back his cry as his body arched one last time before the burning liquid surged between the two.  The feel of the redhead's body clenching around him was sufficient to push the American over the edge into orgasm as well.

The two went bonelessly limp, panting and sweating.  It was a long time before Bren shifted the precog off of him to the side and started to slide out from under him.  He was pulled back suddenly.  "Where are you going?"

He rubbed Brad's arm soothingly.  "Just to get a towel.  I don't fancy sleeping like this, and I don't think you would either if you were fully awake."

"You're probably right."  He let the redhead go and Bren snagged a towel.  He cleaned his body, then returned to the bed and did the same for the dark-haired man.  Only then did he lie back down and pull the sheet and blanket up over them both.  Brad pulled him close until they were spooning, the American wrapping his arms around the telepath as though he were an oversized teddy-bear.  Bren didn't comment, knowing that it was mostly exhaustion, and maybe the need for a little comfort that the man would never admit.  Brad was asleep in minutes and it was the steadiness of his breaths, and the warmth of his body, that helped the redhead to join him in dreams.

TBC…

AN:  That should please Akasha… she's been saying for weeks that all of Brad's problems would be solved by regular sex… I don't know how 'regular' it will be… but at least he had some sex, ne?  Does this count as a breakthrough for the society?  ^_~


	38. Lifting the Veil

**_Rosenkreuz… sweet Rosenkreuz_**

**Chapter 38: Lifting the Veil**

"Why do we have to go now… the Brat hasn't recovered yet and you want to leave him here alone?"  Crawford of course, didn't say anything, merely continued to pack his bag.  Bren watched him from the doorway as the man crossed back and forth in the small bedroom.  He sighed and tried again.  "Why the Hell do we have do this?"

"Language, Schuldich."

"Fuck you too, answer the question."

The man made an exasperated sound.  "It wasn't my choice.  I would much rather stay here… or leave you behind as well."

"So do that… take Farfarello with you."

"Do you really think he's stable enough?"

"Okay… maybe not… but can't you do this by yourself?"

"Schuldich… we don't have a choice.  It's only a two day trip.  Nagi should be fine."

Bren sighed… and gave up.  There was no way to argue his way out of this… all he could do was make sure the boy had what he would need.  

**

Something just felt… different, now that they were away from Rosenkreuz.  He felt as if a veil had been lifted in his head.  Schuldich didn't appear to be any different however, complaining, verbally and mentally throughout the entire flight to Athens.  Fortunately it wasn't a commercial flight but one of Esset's private jets.  They were going to retrieve some newly found artifact for the metaphysical research department.  They were to be given a record of one of the Oracle of Delphi's predictions.  Given that he was an 'oracle' himself, Brad couldn't discount the stories of the priestesses of Delphi… he just doubted the authenticity of whatever relic they were about to receive.  He certainly didn't think it merited Schuldich and himself being sent at a crucial point of their team training period.

He exited the airport and headed for the limo waiting to pick them up.  Schuldich was keeping his tongue… in public.  He was still complaining loud enough mentally that even with some shielding up, Brad was hearing it all.  Ah well… the day the redhead DIDN'T bitch about something was when the American would get worried.  They would spend the night at the hotel, and then tomorrow they would receive the 'item' and fly back.  They would pass the package off to the couriers waiting to take it to the research facility and be back in Rosenkreuz by tomorrow night.  All in all… an easy mission.  So why did he get the feeling something was going to go horribly wrong?

That night he woke several times, after intense visions.  After months of only cloudy images, these were crisp, clear, and more importantly, related to him and to Schwarz.  He had one of Farfarello finally snapping and managing to kill one of his 'doctors'.  That was disturbing and he would have to do something to prevent that.  He saw all four of them in a plane, a couple years into the future, heading toward their new assignment.  He was grateful to see that all FOUR of them were there.  It looked like despite everything else, his initial visions of the four of them were going to come to fruition… if something else didn't happen first.

He had one of Bren, laying naked beneath him, face flushed and lips parted as he thrust into the redhead's willing body.  THAT vision had caused him to have to get up and get some water, hoping it would cool the ardor before the German could pick up on it and offer to 'help' him.  He didn't need that kind of help right now… besides… they were working.  That was rule number one, no distractions while working… and Bren… NAKED was definitely a distraction.

He wondered why all the visions were coming now… as if they had been waiting to make themselves known.  But his visions didn't have that type of choice… so it had to be something with him.  But if it was something with him… why hadn't he seen them before?  He had wanted to.  He had tried spending extra time in meditation, clearing his mind and thoughts.  But they hadn't come.  Or if they did, they were fuzzy and indistinct.  Only tonight… the first night he had been out of Rosenkreuz in months…  This was raising some disquieting possibilities.

One… there was something about the facility that was interfering with his power.  That was a possibility.  There were entire wings that were heavily shielded.  They had discovered that the same type of shielding used for radioactive materials, effectively dampened or contained psychic powers as well.  Therefore, all the practice rooms, meditation rooms, training rooms… private offices even, were heavily shielded, either to contain… or block psychic powers from intruding.  It was possible that all that shielding was 'scrambling' his abilities.  But his power was essentially internal and passive… they shouldn't be affected as say a telepath trying to attack someone through the shielding.

Two… there was someONE at the facility interfering with his power.  That was a more likely possibility.  As difficult as it would be to affect his type of power… it wasn't impossible.  It would be draining… and extremely difficult over any distance… but within the facility not hard; it was a contained space after all.  He didn't know anyone with that type of power though.  And what type of psi could do such a thing…

Three… he was blocking the power himself.  That was the easiest solution.  But one he felt was wrong.  He WANTED to know.  He had never wanted to block his power, no matter how bad the visions became, or the stress on his body and mind.  If he blocked it… it was cutting off a part of himself and he wouldn't be able to influence events if he didn't know what the possibilities are.

Four… something he had not come up with yet.

It was frustrating.  He would simply have to pay close attention to what he saw until he returned to Rosenkreuz.  And then, he would also try to discover if and why his powers were clouded again.  Maybe he would tell Schuldich… and see what the redhead could 'dig up'.  If it was a block in his own head… well, he didn't REALLY want to give the German free reign to rummage around, but maybe he could remove it.  If it was from outside… the telepath might be able to hunt down the culprit.  If it was simply the facility itself… he could only be patient… and wait.

**

Something was up with Brad.  You couldn't tell by looking at him.  As always he looked professional, collected, calm; dressed in an impeccable suit, he seemed to be favoring the lighter colors that were 'in' this season.  But somehow, Crawford managed to pull off the cream and white and light beige in a way most couldn't.  In spite of all that… something was up.

It tingled along his senses, practically screaming; and yet the American hadn't said anything yet.  He watched as they were approached by a couple men in dark suits and sunglasses.  He moved a little closer to Crawford, they might be their contacts, or they might be local 'trouble'.

"Mr. Crawford, we have the items you requested."  The American nodded.  "If you will follow us."

/Let's go./

/We follow them?/

/Yes… they will take us to the archeologist who has possession of the relic.  She is an operative of Esset.  She will verify our identity then give us the item./

They got into a waiting car and traveled about a quarter hour before the vehicle pulled into a small villa.  They were shown through the wide marble and glass foyer and out to a back terrace.  A women waited there for them, her features undeniably Mediterranean in nature.  She waved them toward a couple chairs.  "Good morning.  Coffee?"  Her English was flawless, but carried a trace of an accent.

Crawford sat.  "Please."  She gestured and a servant appeared with two cups of coffee.  Brad took a sip of his black coffee, while Schuldich reached for the cream and sugar.

"If you will wait for a moment… ah here he is."  A man of African origin emerged from the house and joined them at the table.  "Martin here is going to verify your identities; if you will kindly think of the phrase you were given."

/Telepath?/

/Most likely./

Martin looked at Crawford, after a moment he nodded.  "He has the phrase."  The man then looked at Schu.

/I wouldn't./

/I wasn't thinking of it… you have a bit of a reputation./

/Well earned./

/I'm sure./  Martin stood and excused himself.

"Very well, the tablet is inside."

"I would like to get going as soon as possible."

"I figured as much.  Lorenzo will have it at the door.  He will return you to your hotel."

The two men stood.  "Thank you.  Have a good day."  She didn't respond, simply nodded.  They were shown to the door.  One of the men who had brought them was waiting there was a case which he handed off to Crawford.  They climbed back into the car and left.

It wasn't until they were back in the air that he broached the subject.  "Okay… what's up?"

Crawford raised an eyebrow.  "What do you mean?"

/Something is going on in that mind of yours…  I want to know what's going on./

/We don't always get what we want./

/Don't start with that crap.../

/Fine./  Schu didn't know how the man could seem to sigh mentally but he did.  /I was going to tell you anyways.  Remember how I said I wasn't 'seeing' things./

/Yeah… that's not a good sign, you know./

/I'm aware of that.  Well… I didn't have any trouble last night./

/Meaning?/

/Meaning my visions were there… clear as before./

/Interesting that we weren't at Rosenhell./

/That's what I thought too./

/So you only have problems there?.../

/Let's see what happens when we get back./

/And if you can't 'see' again?/

/Then we'll come up with a plan.  Get some rest, we have to go back via Geneva./

/Why Geneva?/

/Because that's where the people we are delivering this to are waiting./

/Joy./

/My feelings exactly./

**

They had passed off the 'package' and were in the last leg of their journey.  They landed and grabbing their bags, got into the car Brad had use off.  The vehicle wasn't much to look at really, but it was dependable, a good 'company' car.  Bren decided he really needed to talk Brad into helping him get a license.  The sun was setting, and they had a bit of a drive still ahead of him.  With the way the roads wound through the countryside and how long it would take to get through security back onto the compound, it would probably be after midnight before they got to bed.  The redhead didn't care so much for getting some sleep, but he wanted to get back to Nagi.  He might be a bit of a mother hen… but SOMEONE had to look after the boy.  Brad didn't get worried enough at times.  Or at least he didn't show it.

All of a sudden, the American pulled to the side of the road and stopped.  Bren started to ask what was wrong, but noticed the faraway look in the man's eyes and the mental 'static' that accompanied a vision.  Thank goodness he generally was able to have a bit of a warning or they would have had an accident on the curvy road.  Yet another reason to get the man to let him drive more often.  He waited until awareness flooded back into the man's brown eyes.  "What is it?"

Brad pulled back on to the road and started for home, going considerably faster than he normally would.  "Nagi's in trouble."

"Trouble?  What kind of trouble?"

"I don't know exactly…"

"What did you see?"

"We need to hurry…"

"WHAT DID YOU SEE?!"

The man's knuckles on the steering wheel were white, tension in his frame.  "He was collapsed in the shower… coughing up blood… tonight…"

Bren felt a bit of a chill.  Coughing up blood?  In the shower… What if they didn't get there in time?  He could suffocate on his own blood before they even got back.  He stayed silent, not wanting to disrupt the man's concentration and cause an accident, quietly urging Brad to go faster.  He even prayed… that they would be in time…

TBC…

Someone mentioned that I haven't had an evil cliffhanger lately… I must be slipping.  ^_____^  Yes… this break was intentional… yes… I'm being evil… But actually I didn't want to have to break up the next section so this was a better place.  You didn't REALLY think nothing would happen while they were away, did you?  Plus, my muse wanted to invest some time in the next fic in the 'Days' series… it's already longer than either of the first two… and almost longer then both of them combined!


	39. Adieu

**_Rosenkreuz… sweet Rosenkreuz_**

**Chapter 39: Adieu**

Brad found it truly a miracle that they managed to get back without having an accident.  They hurried through the security checkpoint as quickly as they could, but some things just couldn't be rushed.  Returning the car required a few pieces of paperwork; meanwhile Bren was champing at the bit.  He refused to allow the redhead to go by himself… the telepath was likely to fly off the handle as it was; he had to be present to avert the worst.  At last they were rushing through the corridors, yet again, Brad wished the place was a little less like a maze.  Fortunately he did know a couple shortcuts, using smaller service hallways and back stairways that few but the staff knew existed, let alone used.

He had the keycard out and ready when they finally reached the apartment.  It took only moments to swipe the card and input the code.  All the private apartments' locks had been converted to keycard and code only a few months ago and he couldn't decide if it was better or not this way.  The door unlatched and Bren shoved by him into the apartment…

To find Nagi, calmly sitting on the couch, reading a book and taking notes.  He looked up, blinking a bit in surprise.  "What's wrong?"

**

It was nerve-wracking… to finally get to the apartment and find the brat… sitting calmly as you please.  He all but fell to his knees beside the couch and pulled Nagi into a hug.  He loosed his grip when the boy made a whimper of protest, he'd forgotten about the ribs.  "You're okay?"

The boy nodded, looking from one to the other, confusion written on his pale face.

He rounded on the American who had shut the door but was still surprised.  It wasn't too often that you could actually see that emotion on the man's face.  "Brad… you said…"

The black-haired man sank into a chair.  "It was clear… clear as could be.  I've never had such an intense vision that didn't come true."

"But…"

They were interrupted by a knock at the door.  There was a sharp intake of breath from the boy sitting next to him.  The kid's shields faltered for a moment… only a moment, but it was enough to make Schuldich VERY suspicious.  "Nagi…"

Another knock, more demanding this time, and the boy scrambled to go get it.  His movements were still stiff, painful.  They just watched him, not quite certain what was going on.  The Japanese boy answered the door, only opening it a crack, not enough for them to see who was on the other side.  After a moment, he accepted something and shut the door, locking it again.  He looked at them; there was something… odd in his eyes.

"What is it?"

If it was possible, the boy paled farther.  "N… nothing."

"Nagi…"

"Really… it's nothing… I'm… um… tired… I'll go to bed now…"  As the kid tried to slide past them to go to the bedroom, Brad reached out to grab his shoulder.  Nagi whimpered and the envelope he was trying to hide slipped from his fingers to the floor.  The American stooped and picked it up without letting go of the boy.  He glanced at the envelope then steered the telekinetic toward the couch.

"Sit down.  Bren…don't let him get up again."

He wasn't sure what this was, but it couldn't be good.  He pulled the boy down and sat next to him, hand on the kid's good arm.  "Brad… what…"

The American opened the envelope and drew out a single sheet of paper.  Opening it, he read what was written and then looked at Nagi.  The boy was studying his feet intently.  "How long has this been going on?"  There was no response from the boy.

/Brad… what?/

The man's thoughts were full of anger and a little frustration when he answered.  /That bastard is at it again./

/What?  Who?  What's going on?/

"Nagi… I'm waiting."  The boy folded in on himself, not crying, but he certainly would have if he hadn't been repressing everything so thoroughly.  "Shall I have Schuldich find out for me?"

"NO!"  The boy's eyes were wild.

Finally a reaction… but one of fear… and… darkness… Bren's rather limited skills at empathy weren't much help.  But he got the strongest feeling that the boy was afraid of him.  But why?  He'd never done anything to the kid.  Nagi was pulling away from him now, or trying to.  He hadn't done that before either.  The boy had been fine until… until Brad mentioned him scanning the kid's thoughts.  He had never minded the redhead being in his mind before.  That could only mean… 

That meant someone… another telepath had put that fear there.

Someone had been in Nagi's head, done something to him, and now the boy was terrified of anyone entering his mind.  It made sense… a lot of things recently were making sense… and Bren didn't like what this was adding up to.  The kid was practically hyperventilating, but wasn't struggling all that hard, and he wasn't using his powers.  If he was that afraid he should have been.  But Nagi just sat there, shaking all over, eyes large and fearful, his good hand clenched so tightly, his nails were drawing blood.

"Brad…" he kept his voice soft and calm.  "Would you get some disinfectant and bandages for Nagi's hand… and some water would be good too I think."  /We need to calm him down… NOW./

The American nodded and got up to go get the items.  /Do you know what's going on?/

/I have suspicions… but now isn't the time.  Grab one of his pain pills too… the sedative in it will knock him out… then we can deal with this…/

**

Schuldich carefully closed the door to the bedroom.  Then very calmly walked into the kitchen and took one of the glasses waiting to be washed.  Turning, he hurled it at the wall as hard as he could.  As it shattered, he swore under his breath.  That when on for sometime, Crawford was mildly impressed at the redhead's vocabulary.  Privately he wanted to join the telepath, but he had other things to do first.

"The asshole is dead… do you hear me Crawford… he's DEAD!"

"I know."

"You're not going to stop me?"

"No.  Just give me a little time to cover us and then we'll take care of it."

He stood there breathing deeply for a moment, then came over and collapsed on the couch.  "How long has it been going on…"  The redhead's voice was choked with emotion, a combination of anger and frustration and guilt and sadness.

"I don't know.  Do you want to read the note?"

Schuldich tsked.  "I know what it says… I got plenty of them.  Why?!  Why didn't Nagi tell us?"

"I don't know."  He was frustrated and angry himself, but they couldn't just march down to the man's office.  Normal channels obviously didn't work with this man.

"He couldn't have me anymore… so he went after the kid…"  /I should have killed the bastard before…/

/I wouldn't have let you./

/But you will now?/

/Yes… I can't let my authority be challenged like this./

"What the FUCK?!"  He glared at the redhead and Schuldich quieted.  "Is that all this is about for you?  That sick bastard has been doing who knows what to the kid and you're worried about your authority?"

/Schuldich!  Not out loud… and no that's not it… of course I'm upset at what's happened to Nagi./  He ignored the German's scowl.  /But I have to act as thought it is my authority that is more important.  Others have to know they don't mess with me and my team, if we don't lay that foundation now, then…/

/Then everyone was a grievance will try walking all over us./

/Exactly.  Right now Nagi and Farfarello are the vulnerable ones, especially Nagi.  He doesn't know how far he can go with his powers and so he's afraid to use them./

/Not to mention who knows what that bastard has done to his head./

/You would know better than I.  I think I know why that vision was so clear… It was going to happen./

/WHAT?!/

/We got back in time to prevent it.  We beat that messenger by what?  A couple minutes.  If we hadn't hurried back…/

/Nagi would have gone…/

/Think of his ribs… they are already weakened… one good hit…/

/Or kick… or hell, if he just threw the kid against his desk.../

/They would have broken and likely punctured his lung./

/Which is why you saw him coughing up blood.  You know… maybe it wasn't the trainer that caused those bruises I've been seeing.  They are the right size and shape as if he'd been grabbed by the arms… and the other ones… we know how much of a sadist the bastard is…/

/Which would mean this has been going on for months./

/He's dead./  Schuldich repeated, his eyes cold with anger.

/Tomorrow night, give me tomorrow to work on this… then we'll go, together./

**

As the car pulled away from the gate and they left Rosenkreuz behind, Brad thought back on the last 24 hours.  

He hadn't been able to sleep much the night before.  Once again, someone had taken advantage and abused a member of his team.  This was intolerable.  There was no excuse for this insult.  It was cruel to the boy as well, but Esset had never really been THAT concerned with the well-being of individual members.  Therefore… if he presented it as an affront to him as a leader…

_Upon rising he had started to make phone calls.  He was arrogant and rude and cold.  In short he was everything they liked in a field leader.  He didn't make requests… he made demands.  He smiled at the look on Schuldich's face as he worked his way through the bureaucratic mine field to get them a transfer and permission to deal with the 'bastard'.  When the first officious toady started to cut him off, Brad went right over his head… and did the same to the next one… and the next one… until someone caught on and things started to get done._

_"I really don't care if things aren't done this way… they are now."_

_-If you submit a request…-_

_"Tonight."_

_The man on the phone spluttered.  –Impossible… you have to...-_

_"Tonight we are leaving.  Now either you find us a new training facility or we relocate to a location of MY choosing…"_

_It was amazing how fast they got permission to transfer to __Prague__.  His next call was even better though._

_-Yes… this isn't the first time you have had problems with him.-_

_"Problems?  He's disrupting my team and challenging my authority.  I want permission to deal with him."_

_-Normally… this wouldn't be approved… however… complaints about him have been too frequent in the last few years… you have permission to deal with him as you see fit.-_

_"He'll likely be dead."_

_-Understood… a new headmaster will be appointed tonight.-_

And so, Schuldich and he had spent the day packing the few belongings they had while keeping Nagi sufficiently doped up on his painkillers so he didn't realize what was going on.  Then they paid a visit to the secure ward and retrieved Farfarello, leaving him in restraints in the living room of the apartment while they made their final stop.

The look on Schultz's face when they showed up at his office was priceless.

_/Oh please… can I smirk… and be generally annoying?/  _

_He supposed the redhead deserved the opportunity.  /Smirk away./  And Schuldich did… the way someone does when they know something you don't… and intend to make you pay for the oversight._

_"What are you doing here?"_

_He adjusted his glasses; a gesture he knew was as annoying as Schuldich's smirk.  "I believe you know."_

_The man glanced at Schuldich, then back to Crawford.  "I haven't touched him."_

_"Not recently true… but that's not why we are here."_

_"You've spoken with the doctors… Farfarello is being treated."_

_"Stop being an ass."  He guessed it was too much to hope that Schuldich could keep his mouth shut.  "We're here to make you pay for what you've done to Nagi."_

_For just a second… the man glanced over at the couch along one wall.  "I don't know what you're talking about."_

_"Somehow… I think you are lying…"  They engaged in a telepathic argument of sorts, completely focused on each other.  Schultz was still arrogant to think he was more powerful than Schuldich.  He was in for a shock… Crawford smiled as the headmaster's face grew strained and he knew the redhead had made it through the man's shields.  He gave his subordinate a minute to get what they needed and to give back a fraction of the pain Schultz has caused the redhead and the boy… then warning Schuldich to pull back, he calmly drew his gun… sighted and pulled the trigger._

_They left shortly after.  Schuldich insisting on putting another bullet in the man's head to be sure.  They had given the written order of execution to the guards on the way in, so there was no problem from that end.  A maintenance crew was waiting to 'clean' the office as they left, to ready the room for the new headmaster who would be arriving in the morning.  Returning to the apartment, they commandeered a couple students to carry their bags, then Schuldich picked up the semi-aware Nagi and Crawford steered Farfarello out of the facility and into a waiting car._

Their driver was experienced, and agent himself and delivered them to the small airport without comment or question.  Their bags were taken and loaded on the plane and then they were invited to board.  It was another of Esset's private jets, a nicely appointed one actually.  Apparently whoever made the arrangements wanted to make sure Crawford wasn't offended in any way.  It was nice to be the one people scrambled to please for a change.

Schuldich made sure Nagi was belted in, covered with a blanket.  Farfarello was likewise situated.  Then the two of them took their seats.  Shortly after that the plane took off and Schwarz left Germany behind.

**

TBC…

AN:  Surprise!  I WASN'T as evil to Nagi as people probably thought I would be.  Actually… you can blame the idea of a broken rib puncturing his lung on Kiki… Schultz using him too.  She's been trying to bribe my muse to abuse the bishies more… but as I was writing I got the idea… what if I DON'T do what everyone is thinking I will do?  Besides… I thought it was funny Bren and Brad rushing back and there's Nagi… perfectly fine.  My muse found it amusing.  I didn't want to linger over Schultz's death… I figured once Brad and Bren found out what was going on the man wasn't going to live past 24 hours.  It was a bit anticlimactic… but I think more will come out now that they are out of Rosenhell.


	40. Renegotiation

**_Rosenkreuz… sweet Rosenkreuz_**

**Chapter 40: Renegotiation**

The facility at Prague was mainly used for training specialized teams, such as the clean-up teams that tracked down traitors, rogue psis that refused to join Esset, and other 'problems'.  Other special groups were also brought in for retraining, updating, new member integration and so on.  Most of the staff and other agents were veterans, experienced operatives.  Nagi was the only child there.

They had spent a month, with only Brad and the redhead in training, giving the boy time to heal and Farfarello time to stabilize.  Then they started over again.

They discovered that Farfarello had periods of near sanity… and at those times he showed himself to be exceptionally intelligent.  He was also a very skilled fighter, though no one could explain how he had picked up those skills.  When he wasn't sane… he was also a skilled fighter, vicious in fact and very eager to spill blood… even his own.  He seemed fascinated by the sight of his own blood, something that totally grossed Nagi out when he went to get the Irishman for dinner one night and found him in a pool of blood.  Farfarello seemed to have remarkable healing capabilities as well; a good thing or they would probably already be looking for a replacement.

Nagi, now that he was removed from the stresses of Rosenkreuz, started to make progress with his own training.  He still seemed reluctant to push the limits of his power.  They were keeping a close eye on the boy… his gift seemed to be quite draining on him.  Bren privately thought it was simply the fact that the kid's body was also trying to grow; his telekinesis used a great deal of energy that normally would be put into the changes his body was making.  Any normal kid would be eating like a horse, but Nagi took only a minimum at any meal, and if busy, tended to forget about meals all together.  It wasn't a good precedent to set and the redhead was worried.  Esset doctors continued to be unconcerned, but their opinion really didn't put Bren's mind at ease.

Crawford's gift was back at full strength.  That had been one interesting tidbit that Schuldich had pulled from the unlamented headmaster's mind.  They HAD found a way to block the precog's power.  By using an illusionist who was also a low-level telepath… they had been able to confound the American's mind so that he couldn't distinguish between vision and illusion.  In the face of so much conflicting information, his subconscious had done the only thing it could to protect him and his powers damped down.  It must have been incredibly difficult, and Bren didn't envy whatever poor soul Schultz had gotten to do the work… it must have been a nearly full-time job.  Fortunately, the range of such a plan was severely limited and once out of Rosenkreuz, Crawford was no longer affected.

As for Schuldich…  He was still seething over that asshole.  He couldn't believe, after all Nagi read in his old diary, that the boy didn't just come to them when Schultz started making his moves.  He still couldn't get the kid to talk about it… and due to whatever the bastard had done to the boy, the kid was so wary about him being in his head that Bren couldn't get anywhere that way.  He just had to trust that when the kid was ready… he would come to one of them.  Until then… they had training to do.

**

The remainder of their initial training phase passed quickly.  Very soon, they started to be sent out on short assignments, very similar to the ones Schu and Crawford had done for the redhead's internship.  The only difference now what that their tasks were more dangerous, more clandestine, and often requiring the death of one or more people.  The purpose of their team was slowly becoming clear… assassination and protection.  They escorted several very high level associates, killed a few others, and in general; began to learn their place in the organization.

They didn't like what they saw.

He discussed the situation with Schuldich at length.  They were in agreement that nothing could be done now… but that their first priority was the survival of the team.  They had finally received their designation, Delta-043.  The redhead had promptly started to complain and suggest alternatives.  He was ignoring the telepath for now, not an easy task.

Especially when the redhead seemed determined to continue his 'stress relief' sessions.  Bren tried to argue that when they were just training they weren't 'working'.  It was immensely frustrating, if only the young German wasn't so damn nice to look at.  Even when the two of them sparred, there were a few times when simply the sight of Bren's athletic grace momentarily distracted the American.  Not that he ever let the redhead know that… wouldn't do at all to let the telepath know he had that kind of power.  This was only a lull for them… their lives were going to get a lot more chaotic… very soon.

**

Finally… their first major assignment, they were to work for a highly successful British businessman with close ties to the upper echelons of society.  In fact, at one time his family had ranked among the nobility, but that branch of the family had died out.  He was eager to reestablish his family name and place, and Esset was eager to encourage that.  He himself was a very low-level psi, it wasn't his power Esset was concerned with, although he had gone through the mandatory training, but his status.  The man was currently living at his family's newly restored estate between London and Southend-on-Sea, where he had many of his businesses.  They were to pack up everything, which wasn't much, and relocate to the estate of one Henry St. John.

Brad was quite pleased by the change.  Finally he had been able to negotiate his own contract… while it was only marginally better than the one they'd had with Esset; they were just starting out after all.  He had been able to get several nice concessions.  Their room and board for instance, and general job related and medical expenses were all taken care of.  He had even gotten a half-way decent salary for himself and Schuldich.  Unfortunately, Farfarello wasn't exactly a marketable resource yet and Nagi… he'd been lucky to even convince St. John that the boy was a member of the team.  The boy would have to prove himself, and quickly.  Maybe getting him working on something more mental… like computers.  Young people seemed to take to new technology so quickly, and their innate curiosity and creativity produced interesting results.  Yes… that would be the way to go.

He shut his bag and heard Schuldich needling Nagi in the other room.  The redhead seemed to be doing that more lately.  There was a muffled thump… and then the German swearing at the top of mind and lungs.  He walked out to see the telepath's clothing strewn across the floor.  Nagi had a slight smile on his face.  Schuldich turned to him.

"That spoor flipped the catch on my bag!"

"We don't have time for this… clean it up… Nagi, help him."  The two sighed and started to stuff the clothes back into the bag.  Brad sighed.  Yes… this would be a great opportunity… if they survived the trip.

**

TBC…

I know… I know… it's short and doesn't do much and skips over a LOT of time… but I've had this nasty cold and haven't felt like working… besides… I want to move this story along… even though I know of a couple people that would be happy if it went on forever… -_-;


	41. Earning their Keep

**_Rosenkreuz… sweet Rosenkreuz_**

**Chapter 41: Earning their Keep**

During the flight, Brad had repeatedly impressed upon him the need to give their new employer a good impression… and that he was expected to be on his best behavior.  Now… a fortnight later… Brad was still subtly reminding him of this fact.

He WAS behaving!  He was behaving so well it was driving him nuts.  He hadn't annoyed Farfarello.  He hadn't picked on Nagi.  He hadn't even tried to get Brad in bed!  He wasn't going out.  He wasn't messing around with all the essentially defenseless and unexplored minds around him.  Dammit… he was being GOOD!

If something didn't change soon he was going to snap.

There were several possible consequences of that.  He could a) mentally torment everyone in range; b) simply go insane and kill their stuffy English employer; or c) his favorite option… he could totally shock said stuffy employer by jumping Brad and having wild monkey sex at the breakfast table.

Bren snickered, picturing the effect of THAT particular event.  Nagi would cover his eyes, claiming he was going blind.  Farf… well, Farf wasn't eating with them yet.  They still had to get him to accept the idea that at the table, one did NOT use the steak knives for self-mutilation.  Brad… he would resist till his hormones overwhelmed his control, and then enjoy the sex… and thoroughly beat the redhead afterwards.  And Master St. John… would probably have a coronary.  Especially if Bren then turned and offered to service HIM too.

And he had thought Brad was repressed!

This guy gave a whole new meaning to the word.  Privately, he thought the stiff was in denial and being presented with such beautiful men was pushing him to admit his latent homosexuality.  Or he could simply posses NO sex drive whatsoever.  But how anyone could not think Brad Crawford was a fine specimen?

He did catch the guy watching Nagi the other day.  Any behavior in THAT direction and Schuldich would hand the man his balls.  NO ONE was going to touch Nagi… not until he was at least 30.  The kid didn't need anymore of THAT kind of attention, no matter what the source.  He still hadn't gotten the kid to open up yet.  He sighed.  It had only been a couple weeks.  He supposed it was too early to hope for much.

Yes… it had been a couple weeks… of NO Brad.  Hmmm… THAT was something to be rectified… soon.

**

"Oh, Braaaad…"

"No."  This couldn't be good… there was no way this was going to be good.

"But…"

"No."  He didn't have to be a mind reader… he didn't even have to check his own gift.  The tone of voice was enough.

"You didn't even let me finish."

"I don't have to… the answer is still 'no'."  He was undoubtedly pouting by now.  But the American refused to look.  It didn't matter what the redhead wanted… they were working, this assignment was critical for their future.  He couldn't be indulging in the telepath's whims.  Finally he heard the German sigh and then flop down in one of the chairs across from his desk.  Mr. St. John had provided him with an office as he requested.  Brad was finding that he liked the illusion of power that sitting behind the desk gave him.  He realized now why so many of his former teachers had done similar things in their offices.  The desk provided a visual status of authority, and a physical separation between superior and subordinate.

"Oh stop it."

Now he did glance up, adjusting his glasses as he did.  "What?"

"Stop your mental masturbation.  Us lowly foot soldiers deserve some attention now and then."

"Mental masturbation?"  He checked his shields… they were as solid as ever.

"Yeah… you get off on your own power.  I'm sure you were contemplating…"

"Enough… was there a reason you came in to bother me?"  The redhead smirked now… Brad got the feeling he had left himself wide open for whatever Bren was thinking.

"Well… now that you mention it…"

He sighed.  "What do you want?"

"Sex."

"Seriously… what do you want?"

"I am being serious.  It's been several weeks."  He leaned forward and leered at the American.  "I've been a VERY good boy… shouldn't you reward me?"

"I'm working…"

"It's nine at night… you're on overtime… that can't count."

"We need to make…"

"A good impression…"  The German's eyes rolled.  "I know… EVERYONE knows… if we haven't made it by now it's too late anyways."

"This is my office…"

"Yeah I know… it even says 'Private' on the door."  Schuldich smirked.  "So shall we use this nice 'privacy' we have here?  You need a little… relaxation…"

"I doubt relaxation is what you have in mind…"  He gathered his papers and started to drop the files into a drawer.

"Oh we'll get to the relaxation stage eventually."

He started to weigh risks versus benefits.  They could get caught… but as the redhead pointed out, this was HIS office and well after 'business hours'.  They could offend their boss; but if he really valued them, he would ignore the transgression in favor of their continued service.  It would make Bren… Schuldich, whichever he was right then… it would make him happy.  And a happy telepath was a well-behaved telepath.  Finally he consulted his gift... it took a bit of concentration to force a vision like this… but sometimes it was worth it.

The redhead smirked as he looked up.  The telepath stood and came around the desk, leaning against it.  Brad removed his glasses and carefully placed them in the center drawer.  It appeared the desk was going to get a different use tonight.

**

It was a much more content and happier Bren that returned to their suite later.  The Stiff had given them the end of one of the guest apartments for their use.  They had a large central living area with private bedrooms and a large bath opening off of that.  Strategically it was a good setup, only one door to seal off the whole area.  It had only taken a few hours to convert one of the rooms for Farfarello.  The windows already had barred grates; it took only a padlock to make the Irishman's secure.  Everything remotely sharp had been removed, as well as anything that could be converted into a weapon.  They made it clear to the pale teen that good behavior would get things replaced… like furniture… for now he had to make due with a mattress on the floor.  Surprisingly, the strange man found the arrangement quite suitable and hadn't complained.

Nagi now had a room of his own, although he had appeared in Bren's in the middle of the night a few times.  The boy wasn't used to sleeping alone anymore… and in a strange place, he'd felt uncomfortable.  The redhead hadn't discouraged him, simply held up the blankets and welcomed the kid into the bed.  If it helped the slender boy to sleep, Bren certainly wasn't going to tell him no.  Besides, he was hoping this would encourage Nagi to open up to him a little.

In recent days, the boy seemed to be doing better, sleeping in his own room and adapting to his new environment and duties.  In fact… Bren noticed that there was a dim light peeping out from under Nagi's door.  He glanced at the clock on the wall… the one that ticked annoyingly.  It was nearly midnight… the kid should be asleep.  Stress the 'should'.

He tapped lightly on the door then opened it.  As he figured, Nagi was sitting in front of his new computer, immersed in code and other things Bren couldn't follow from one end to the other.  "What are you still doing up?"

The boy jumped slightly and twisted, a faintly guilty look on his face.  "I didn't think you were awake…"

"I usually look in on you, don't I?"

"Yeah… but it was so quiet…"

"I was keeping Brad company, he's working late again… as are you I see…"

The boy almost smiled.  "Yeah… it's really fascinating…"

"Don't try to explain it.  I can't follow it and we already know you're a lot smarter than me."

"no I'm not…"  Nagi whispered.

"Yes you are and we both know it.  Now… it's almost midnight… bedtime…"

"But…"

"Now.  You need to sleep.  Are you going to stay here or come over with me?"

Reluctantly, the kid started saving and shutting down the computer.  "um… would you mind?"

Bren smiled.  "Of course not.  I'm going to go get changed and ready… come over when you're ready."  He was glad the boy considered him 'safe'.  With everything that had happened… he sighed and pushed those thoughts away.  It would do no good for him to get angry over it now.  The bastard was dead.

Within ten minutes, Nagi crept into his room and crawled under the covers.  Bren finished tossing his dirty clothes into the 'to be washed' pile and then turned off the lights.  It drove Brad nuts that he didn't use the hamper, so of course he didn't.  He climbed into bed, it was so nice to have something bigger than that cot he had before.  This was a nice double bed, plenty of room for one wiry young man and a scrawny kid.  The boy was already half asleep, nestled in amidst the pillows.  Bren made sure the blankets were pulled up around Nagi's shoulders then settled down himself.

He supposed this job wasn't half bad after all.

**

It was the suddenness of the vision that bothered him the most.  Usually, he could 'feel' it coming on… he could really explain how he knew… but usually he knew at least a couple minutes in advance.  But this one was sudden, clear, and… mildly alarming.  Not so much for them… but for their boss.  'Schuldich'… he thought.

/Yo… what's up?/

/Time to earn our keep./

/Really?  Do you want just me or should I bring Farfarello?/

/Bring him… maybe this will prove his worth to Mr. St. John./

/We'll be there in 10 minutes./

/Make it five./  Pushing away from his desk, Brad checked his gun… then stood and headed for the door.  Walking down the hall, he rapped on another door and waited for the occupant to beckon him in.  "Mr. St. John, I'm afraid there is a problem."

The very staid Englishman and his guest looked up.  "A problem?"

"Yes sir.  The type you hired us to handle."  He wasn't sure exactly who this was with his boss, but chances were good that they didn't know about his group's 'special' talents.  His careful wording got the reaction he wanted, St. John stiffened suddenly.

"I see.  Can you handle it then?"

"Of course, sir.  I've already taken steps.  I simply wished to inform you."

"Thank you.  Let me know when it's been resolved."

"Certainly, I'll speak with you later."  He closed the door as Schuldich and Farfarello appeared at the end of the hall.  "I need you two to head out onto the grounds.  At the western end of the estate you will find three men trying to slip in.  Remove them please… when you are done, return."  The redhead nodded, knowing exactly what type of 'removal' the American was talking about.  He led the Irishman away.

Brad headed back to his office, it was never too early to start on the forms… maybe that was another thing he could teach Nagi to do.

**

TBC… a bit short… but I knew I had to rush this or I wouldn't get anything up till next week… then I would run the risk of getting lynched.  ^_^  Akasha… are you happy?  Brad got laid again!  ^_~


	42. Moving Up In the World

**_Rosenkreuz… sweet Rosenkreuz_**

**Chapter 42: Moving Up In the World**

Their first assignment was completed flawlessly.  In fact, they did so well, that they were recalled after only a few months.  They were reassigned to a more difficult, and more important operative, again one with important political and social connections.  Once again, Crawford managed to secure a good contract for them, including a small salary for Farfarello this time.  He still wasn't able to really sell Nagi's abilities, but that would come.  

The young telekinetic was becoming indispensable.  He handled most of the day-to-day paperwork now and had transferred most of their forms to electronic equivalents.  He was making great strides in his studies of hacking and encryption and Brad knew it wouldn't be long before he could truly compete in those areas.  Schuldich wasn't happy to be back in Germany, he seemed to have a great distaste for the country of his birth.  Farfarello was largely indifferent.

This employer was requiring a lot more tact and patience to deal with.  She was a very wealthy matron, and a moderately skilled telepath, and seemed to think she deserved more than preferential treatment.  All the team members, with the possible exception of Farfarello who didn't notice, needed more painkillers than normal to deal with their assorted headaches.  Schuldich had finally given up complaining, realizing that there was little Brad could do and complaining only annoyed the American.  Which resulted in the redhead having to sleep in his own room… a situation he didn't like at all.

They weren't unhappy when she was called back to headquarters and no longer required their specialized services.  Delta-043 was given a suite of rooms and told to wait for their next assignment to be decided upon…

**

"Gaaaaah… If I have to dress up and go to another fancy party again…"

"At least people don't pinch YOUR cheeks."

"That's just because you're so cute, kiddo."

"I'm not a kid."

"Sure you are."

Brad heard a crash and then swearing in several languages.  "Stop it, now."

"But…"

"I don't want to hear about it!"  The American sighed and looked up at the ceiling, trying to remember exactly WHY he had decided to saddle himself with the German.  Oh yes… strongest telepath in years… that didn't change his attitude.

Right on schedule the redhead appeared in the doorway.  "That Brat…"

"I said I didn't want to hear about it…"

"But he…"

"Yes… I know… You were teasing him… and he knocked your chair over."

"Exactly."

"Do I need to point out that if you hadn't all ready been tipped back with your feet on the table, which I've told you repeatedly NOT to do… you wouldn't have been as easy to knock over."

The telepath stopped, giving him an odd look, in fact, he looked a lot like a kid that had been caught doing something he shouldn't have been and therefore was trying to get out of trouble.  "Well fine."  He sat on the edge of the brunette's bed, no office this time.  "So how long do we have to hang here?"

"Until we are reassigned."

"Well thank you Captain Obvious… how long till that event takes place?"

"Another week."

"That quick?"

"Yes, but you're not going to like the new assignment."

"Oh wonderful… why?  So I can stock up on the right measures."  One eyebrow raised in question.  "You know… aspirin… beer… lube…"

"Hopeful are we?"

"Oh come on… you know you like it."

"That isn't the point."

"No… the point is repression isn't good for you, have you considered therapy?"

"I'm fine just as I am."  He smirked evilly.  "You on the other hand will have to buy another suit."

"No… oh no…"

"Oh yes… more of those fancy parties you love so much."  He laughed mentally as Schuldich stamped off.  That alone was worth the earlier aggravation.

**

 At the end of the following week, Crawford was summoned.  Bren sat at the table, watching Nagi get dinner ready, with surprising assistance from Farfarello.  The Irishman seemed quite interested in the process of raw food to finished dish and was happy to help.  The redhead sipped his beer, that was the one nice thing about being back in Germany.  Their stuffy English employer frowned on drinking of any kind, and the matron had refused to allow any drinking while on duty.  Now, Bren wasn't a heavy drinker… currently, but he did enjoy a little.  Then again it could simply be that he chaffed at ANY restriction imposed upon him.

"Yo… Brat… when's the food gonna be ready?"  He smirked; he could just see the eye roll.

"I have a name."

"Yup… and I have a few names for you too.  When's dinner?"

The kid sighed and Bren smirked, one point for him…  "In about twenty minutes… when Brad said he'd be home."

"He said when he'd be home?"

"YES… if you had been listening."

"What was I doing?"

"The same thing you've done every other afternoon this week, stared at the TV.  You're getting addicted you know."

"What can I say… it's engaging."

"It's a soap opera…"

"And your point is?"  The boy sighed again, louder.

"Soap operas hurt God."

They both stared at the Irishman.  It was the first time they could remember when he had spoken in a conversation without being asked a direct question.  Bren tilted his head.  "Oh really?"

"Yes… they glorify sex outside of marriage, lying, betrayal… God really hates them."

"There are good characters too."

"But bad things keep happening to them.  No one gets to be happy.  That makes God cry."  Nagi was just shaking his head, tossing the chopped veggies and meat in a pan.  Bren found the situation hilarious.

"Hmmm… maybe we should watch TV together, Farfster… you can tell me about other shows that God hates."

"Really?"  The man's eyes gleamed.

"Why not?  Sinning is a hobby of mine."  The boy snorted at the stove.  "No comments from the peanut gallery."

"I didn't say anything."

"You didn't have to… I could hear you think it."

"Then I didn't have to say it, did I?"  Just then the door opened.  Brad, dressed impeccably as always, to which Bren rolled his eyes, walked in.  Nagi turned from the stove.  "You're early."

"Yes, sorry, don't rush dinner.  Things moved quicker than I foresaw."

That just required a comment.  "Hmmm… old age creeping up on you?"  That got him a raised eyebrow, but no comment.  Another point for him… he was on a roll.  Brad walked over to the fridge and removed a beer for himself, though he poured it into a glass while the redhead just drank from the can.  Why bother with the glass… you'd only have to wash it afterwards.  "So, illustrious leader… where are we going this time?"

"We've been assigned to Hasan Mukhtar."

"Whoa… back up… Hasan Mukhtar?  THE Hasan Mukhtar… the Egyptian psychic… head of the second circle?!"  Bren's voice was shocked and a little awed.

"Yes… THAT Hasan Mukhtar."

"Well… shit…"

"Language."

Nagi frowned as he slid a dish of rice onto the table, Farfarello following with the rest of the meal.  "Who is he?"

"He's a legend, kid.  He's got an odd combination, a precog AND a telepath… both equal in strength.  You know usually one is weaker, a secondary talent, he's got two primaries."

"He will also be our new boss, so I expect…"

"Best behavior…"  Bren finished, he and Nagi sighed.

"Exactly."  Brad started in on the meal.

**

TBC…


	43. Journey to the East

**_Rosenkreuz… sweet Rosenkreuz_**

**Chapter 43: Journey to the East**

As per usual, they were kept cooling their heels in a waiting chamber long past Bren's admittingly short attention span.  They were all dressed in 'respectable clothing'… well what Crawford considered respectable, which meant suits.  Bren HATED suits.  But at least he looked halfway decent in one.  Farf… looked so incredibly out of place it was laughable, and Nagi… poor poor Nagi.  He looked like an escapee from a wedding.  He just didn't have the height to pull off the suit, and was too big to fall into that 'oh so cute' look.  He was also extremely uncomfortable.  He never liked it when they got summoned somewhere, he was too easily intimidated.  Bren would have to do some more work with the boy; maybe an afternoon or two on the shooting range would be good.

At last the door opened and they got their first glimpse of their newest employer.

Mukhtar was as he had said to Nagi, a legend.  The only ones higher in rank then him were the three who made up the first circle.  Every so often, someone with more power than sense would try to remove Mukhtar.  Not a single one had survived.  It was his mix of talents, the equality between them, which gave the Egyptian his edge.  It would be interesting to watch Crawford work with him.

"Ah… my new 'body guards'."  The man's voice, in heavily accented but excellent English, carried a combination of scorn and amusement.  Bren understood, THIS man had no need for bodyguards.  In fact, they were probably a hindrance, possibly harboring the very people that would try to eliminate him.  He didn't require bodyguards anymore than those above him did.  But appearances had to be maintained… ah the joys of hierarchy.

"Yes, I'm Crawford, this is my team.  My second, Schuldich.  That is Farfarello.  And Naoe Nagi."

"Quite young."

"Yes."  That was it… no explanation of why they had the kid… no attempt to endorse the boy… just a simple agreement. 

"Ah.  Here is all the information you will need; we leave for Tokyo in the morning.  You may spend your last night here in the rooms you've been staying in."

Crawford took the folder.  "Thank you, sir.  We will see you in the morning."

"Be at the front entrance at nine.  You are dismissed."

**

"Well… wasn't that special."

"Schuldich…" He knew it was useless, even as he spoke.  The redhead never listened… well that wasn't exactly correct.  Bren ALWAYS listened… he just rarely followed the directions given.  Schuldich always had… and always would… do what HE wanted.  It was a trait that tended to get on Brad nerves.

"Hey, brat… what do you think… we're going to Japan."

Nagi turned from his computer, well… it was actually Brad's computer but the boy spent the most time on it.  The telekinetic seemed to be cultivating that 'apathetic teenager' look.  "So."

Bren rolled his eyes.  "Sooooo… that where you're from.  Aren't you excited a little?"

The Japanese boy turned back to the computer.  "Are you excited every time we go to Germany?"

"Hmm… point taken…"

"Nagi."  Brad was pleased to note that his voice still got an instant response from the boy.  Midnight eyes looked at him, waiting.  "I want you to start drilling us on the flight.  By the time we land I want everyone capable of basic conversation in Japanese."  Nagi nodded.  Schuldich was swearing.  "What's your problem?"

"Does that mean we're going to be there for a while?"

He smiled… it was good to know a bit of the future… was the only entertainment he got at times.  The redhead took a look at his face and swore again.  "What is it?"

"Have you seen what they eat there?!"

"You've had sushi before…"

"Not that… at least THAT'S dead!!!  They eat moving things… I don't do moving food!"

Nagi snorted.  "And yet… you'll eat that sausage crap."

"Hey… that's good stuff there."

"Do you know WHERE some of that 'stuff' comes from?"

"No… and don't tell me…"  Farf started to chuckle, Schuldich glared at him.  "Make one comment about haggis and I'll take away your favorite knife."

"Yur no fun."

Brad shook his head and went to his room.  If he was going to deal with this for who knew how many hours… he needed some peace and quiet first.  Which apparently he wasn't going to get, since Bren followed him in shortly… a knowing smirk already in place.  "Oh Braaaaad… it's our last night here…"

**

By the time they landed in Tokyo… Nagi's voice was gone, Schuldich was complaining that he couldn't even think in German anymore, Farfarello was largely bored, and Brad's headache wasn't even close to disappearing.  Mukhtar was high enough in rank, that he had his own private jet.  It was large enough that the Egyptian had his own section at the front, separate from where the 'body guards' were seated.  He no doubt was aware of what had gone on during the trip, and he seemed mildly amused as they exited the craft.

"We will go to our residence.  The rest of the day and tomorrow, take the time to get acclimated and adjusted to the time difference.  On Monday I have my first meeting and will require your presence.  Crawford nodded and they picked up their bags and made their way to the waiting limousine.  The American sat next to the Egyptian, engaging him in light conversation.  Across from them, Nagi was sandwiched in between the other two men, and not happy about it.

/Tough luck, kid… but you're the smallest, so you get to be the bitch./

/ha ha… YOU don't have to sit next to Farfarello./

Bren leaned forward a bit and looked across to the Irishman, who was staring out the window.  /What… so he's crazy… he's not doing anything…/

/He's just… I don't… I don't trust him, Schu./

/Good… you're smart… but he wouldn't hurt you… I think…/

/Gee thanks… that makes me feel SO much better…/

They were getting glared at by Crawford and subsided into mental silence for the rest of the trip.

**

TBC…

AN: Sorry everyone… for some reason I just COULDN'T get going on this chapter.  Hopefully now that I've gotten them to Japan this will move along.  I think my muse is deserting me… or at least her flighty, non-existent attention span isn't focused on THIS fic for now.  It might be time to take a break… so if it takes a couple weeks to update again… that's why.  ^___^

The title is obviously a play on Saiyuki (Journey to the West) and I knew it would probably give the Llama a smile.

And a comment on 'moving food'… I don't DO moving food… I'll try the sashimi… but my minimum requirement is that my food be dead!  That squid… still looking at me… with tentacles waving… NOOOOOO!!!!!!  And if you don't know what haggis is… you don't want to, let's just say it's a Scottish dish… yes I know Farfie is Irish.


	44. Adjustments

**_Rosenkreuz… sweet Rosenkreuz_**

**Chapter 44: Adjustments**

Bren dragged himself out of bed when Brad banged on his door… for the third time.  He didn't care what hour it was… he wasn't adjusted yet… he wanted to sleep.  But NOOOOOOO… since Mister Crawford was up… HE had to be up.  He grumbled all the way down to the kitchen.  Again they had lucked out and had a private apartment within their employer's residence.

Brad was already sitting at the table, drinking coffee and reading a newspaper.  Bastard.

The redhead fell into another seat and pillowed his head on his arms.  He heard a faint thump and then the smell of coffee wafted toward him.  The lure of caffeine was enough to get him to pick up his head.  He took a sip… and another… and felt like MAYBE he might be able to wake up.  He looked around with sleepy eyes.  Nagi was already fixing breakfast… he wasn't sure what it was… but it smelled suspiciously of fish.

He finished his coffee quickly.  "Nags… I need a refill."  The boy turned and had a look of 'I'm NOT your servant'… then came over with the coffeepot anyways.  After a second cup he felt ALMOST human again.  "So where's Farf?"

"In his room."  Brad didn't even look up from his paper.

"Why does he get to stay in his room… and I have to be up?"

"Because you have things to do today."

"What the Hell?  Mukhtar said he didn't need us till Monday."

"We will spend today familiarizing ourselves with Tokyo.  You will learn the bus and subway systems…"

"I don't get a car?"

"Subway system."  Crawford glared, not happy about the interruption.  "We will also locate the nearest stores for basic necessities.  Additionally we will go shopping for essential items."

"What about a car?"

Nagi set their breakfasts in front of them.  Bren frowned.  Rice, some kind of soup, and a piece of fish.  Sitting in front of him was only a pair of chopsticks.  He looked across to Brad's plate.  He had the same.  Nagi sat down; the only difference with his meal was a cup of green tea instead of coffee.  Brad frowned.  "Go get some juice too, Nagi."  The boy sighed but did so.

Bren picked up a chopstick and poked at the baked fish.  "Is this breakfast or dinner?"

The American was already digging in, using his chopsticks quite skillfully.  "I told Nagi to make us a typical Japanese breakfast."  The boy returned and started to eat.

The redhead frowned.  "That's fine… but how am I supposed to eat it?"  The boy held up his hand… showing how the chopsticks were to be held and used.  Bren scowled… this was going to take forever…

**

Several hours later… Bren wanted to beat his head into the wall.  He was NEVER going to get the hang of this.  Nagi stood next to him, patiently reading signs for him when there were no English ones available.  He still wanted a car… but after looking at the street map they had purchased… he wasn't sure getting around by car would be any easier.  But it would be a hell of a lot more quiet.  The sheer number of people using the subway was a strain on anyone, let alone a telepath.  His headache kept getting worse and worse.  All he wanted right now was to get home and get some aspirin.

Nagi was standing next to him, concern etching his features.  /Don't worry, Brat.  I'll be fine with some aspirin./

/What's wrong?/  His mental voice hadn't gotten any more confident, still thin and soft.

/Too many people…/

/Oh… umm… do you want to find another way home?/

/No… I just need to work on my shields./

/This is our train./

/Okay./

They moved forward with the rest of the crowd.  Bren couldn't believe that there would be MORE people at rush hour.  He made a mental note to never ever use the public transportation system at rush hour.  Hence the need to talk Brad into getting him a car.  There was a little bit of space around them… people giving the weird redheaded gaijin some space.  That… and he was projecting his annoyance a little he was sure.  Nagi was between him and the wall, where Bren could be sure he wouldn't be swept away by the crowd or stepped on or anything.  They really had to feed him more.

Fortunately, they weren't far from home and were able to get off after only a few stops.  After exiting the station they climbed up to street level, emerging into Tokyo's late winter.  It was colder than he had thought it would be, but that didn't seem to keep people in.  The streets too were teeming with people.  This was going to require some adjustment.

/What's still on our list?/

Nagi checked it.  /Some groceries./

Spying something that must be a grocery store, Bren pointed to it.  /How about there?  Do we have enough money?/

/We still have a couple man [1]… more than enough./

/Good… tight-fisted Braddy will be happy if we come back with money left over.  Let's get the food./  They started to walk around the small store, Bren staring at the items for sale.  He was reduced to looking at the pictures on the packages, since his ability to read kanji was practically non-existent and his kana wasn't all that great.  He was totally grossed out by the whole squid (only about 4 inches long, but still they were whole… with eyes and everything) in multipacks in the cooler.  And the live fish in the tank… he didn't even know what to DO with a live fish.  Some things looked interesting though… and some looked familiar.  But there were definite omissions that he would have to find somewhere else… eventually.

/Yo… Nags… you got what we need?/

/My name is Nagi… and yes… I think so./

/Lets get out of here then./  He smirked as the boy walked in front of him toward the registers.  That was the first time the boy had actually protested a nickname… he was making progress.

**

Brad wasn't totally unsympathetic.  Schuldich looked terrible when he and Nagi returned.  He had been snappish and short with everyone, even the boy; just grabbing the new bottle of aspirin and going off to his room to fight with the cap.  Nagi started to put the groceries away.

"What's his problem?"

"Too many people he said."

The American nodded.  Just as he had thought.  Well… the redhead always had been a little lazy with his shields.  "How confident are you about the transit system?"  The boy nibbled on his lip.

"Well… I'd be okay on the major routes… I can call up the maps and study them tonight."

"Okay… do that.  We'll probably be depending on you to get us places when Mukhtar doesn't have his driver take us."  Nagi nodded… it was so satisfying to have someone who listened as actually did as they were told.  "I know you were taught to read Japanese… but how good are you?"

"If you mean can I read the Kanji, yes, I might not recognize the rarer characters but I'm fine."

"Good.  You may have to do translation until I can brush up on the Kanji.  Also I may ask you to translate verbal conversations until I get more comfortable with the language."

"Yes, Brad."

"Good job today… You don't need to cook, I'll order in tonight.  You can work on getting that new computer of yours up and running."  The boy actually smiled, then scampered off.  Hmmm… he responds very nicely to praise, Brad would have to remember that.  He got a cup of coffee and headed for the small office he had off the living room.  On the couch… he found Farfarello, watching TV and eating some of the Japanese snacks that Nagi had gotten.

"Why are you out here?"

The pale man looked up at him, amber eyes curiously innocent.  "Schu let me out… he said I was making his headache worse.  Told me to watch TV… why didn't anyone let me do this before… its fun."

Brad looked at the screen.  Some bizarre Japanese game show was on.  "Can you follow it?"

Farf looked back at the TV.  "Of course…"

One eyebrow rose.  Apparently he had underestimated the Irishman… he was MUCH more intelligent than anyone had ever credited him with.  "Well… if you start feeling… odd…"

"You mean if I think I'm going to act crazy?"

"Ah… yes, let me know."

"Sure."  He laughed… it was really eerie sounding… his attention caught by the show.  

Brad continued into his office.  That was…  interesting.  He would have to watch Farfarello more closely.  Meanwhile… he had a lot of work to do.  Bank accounts to transfer, arranging for a driver's test so  he could get a Japanese license, getting a subscription to a decent newspaper… not to mention he had to check his stocks.  So much to do…

**

"Good morning, sir."

"Ah… Crawford, you are prompt… I like that."

"It is poor form to be less than timely."  He knew Schuldich was rolling his eyes behind him, but ignored it.  For this meeting, Mukhtar had requested that they all be present, as the other party was another of Esset's political hopefuls.  Farfarello seemed to be slipping out of his period of semi-stability, hopefully he would hold out until AFTER the meeting.  If not… well… Nagi would be demonstrating his talents a little earlier than Brad had intended.  As for the boy, he was going along in the guise of a translator, should they require it.  He just hoped whoever they were meeting wouldn't be annoyed by Nagi's presence.  He was only 13 after all.  Maybe they should consider getting him enrolled in a school once things settled down.  It would keep him out of trouble during the day.

"Shall we go then?"

"Of course sir."  They followed Mukhtar down, alert but not overly concerned as they were still in the man's own residence.  It didn't pay to be less then vigilant however.  They entered the car and started to pull into traffic, when Brad decided it would be a good opportunity to ask some questions.  "May I ask who we are meeting?"

"Oh… I didn't tell you his name.  We are meeting a businessman-politician.  The organization had great hopes for him.  His name is Takatori Reiji."

**

TBC…

[1] A 'man' (pron. mon) is 10,000… so Nagi and Schu have ¥20,000, a little less than US$200.  It's really not unusual to carry around 3 or 4 man at all times… it is very much a cash society over here.  Except in the cities… credit cards aren't really usable and checks are virtually nonexistent.  Oh… and ATMs are NOT 24/7.  You are lucky to find one open after 7pm.  There are probably a few open later in the cities, but they aren't as widely available as in the States.  If the bank or post office isn't open… chances are good the ATMs aren't either… the concept of AUTOMATED… therefore not requiring someone behind the counter, hasn't caught on.

AN: I feel so much better about this after having taken a week or so away from it.  This chapter was more fun to write, and easier then the fic has been previously.  I also got some other things started so this was a good break for me.  Thank you for waiting.  ^_^


	45. The Koala

**_Rosenkreuz… sweet Rosenkreuz_**

**Chapter 45: The Koala**

"Well… he's a creep."

As always… Schuldich was blunt to the point of tactlessness.  But in this case… he had to agree.  "You better learn to work with him."  He warned.

"No… oh no… I already have to deal with the psycho, no offense Farf; I refuse to deal with that creep… his arrogant son… and even creepier other son."

"Schuldich."  /Don't argue with me in front of the other two./

/But why would we have to work with that man?… he looks like a koala./

/Because… he is endorsed by the organization./

/The organization… you know… I'm so sick…/

/Don't.  Don't say it… don't think it… I know…/

They rode in silence for a while.  After Muhktar had completed his business, he suggested they take one of the cars and drive around, not only to familiarize themselves with the city… but also to scope out possible bases of operation, safehouses, locations… a large penthouse, Bren suggested.  They were currently driving through the skyscraper region of Shinjuku.  Bren kept pointed out apartment 'mansions' that might have penthouses.  It was getting annoying.

Farfarello was largely disinterested… except for giggling every time they passed a shrine.  Finally, the redhead had turned to him and asked why he kept doing that.  The Irishman replied that God didn't like other gods, and every shrine they passed must make God very angry.  Bren promised to take him to see one of the big shrines someday.  Brad hoped they didn't end up terrorizing some of the local priests.

Nagi appeared mildly interested, but generally didn't comment unless asked directly.  He had been doing that more and more, not that he had ever been really talkative.  Brad wasn't sure if it was a case of not being able to get a word in around the redhead or not.  He was still torn between enrolling the boy in a school, more for appearances since Nagi had technically already graduated… or keeping him at home and 'home schooling' him.

/You put him in any of those schools and he'll be bored to tears… not to mention how are you going to explain his frequent absences?  If he's really to be a member of this team the way you've been saying, he's going to miss a lot of days./

/I know… but I also don't want child welfare getting too interested./

/Why's that?/

/No one has legal custody of him, that's why.  They find out he's not really my ward and they'll remove him./

/So GET legal custody./

/Oh yeah… a gaijin, and one without a reportable job at that… great idea./

/Isn't that what 'koala-man' is for.  He's a politician… he's got to have a lawyer or a couple judges on his payroll./

/You know… sometimes…/

/I'm brilliant./

/I wouldn't go that far./

/I would… hey… look at THAT one… I bet it has a penthouse apartment./

**

Bren was startled by the knock at his door.  Brad had kicked him out, telling him to use his own room tonight cause HE had to think.  Bastard.  A quick scan proved that it was Nagi outside in the hall.  /The door's open, Nags./  The kid didn't reply, which worried him a bit… but Nagi did come in, shutting the door behind him.

"What's wrong, kid?"  The boy didn't look up, staring at his toes… Bren finally pulled him down to sit on the edge of the bed.  "What is it?"

"That man today…"

"Takatori?"

"Yeah… was he… watching me funny?"

"Watching you funny?  What do you mean?"

Nagi's hands were twisting in his lap.  "Just… funny.  He kept looking at me."

"Well… he was looking at all of us.  I'm getting used to that."

"No… that's not what I mean.  Farfarello noticed too."

Bren frowned, this could be more serious than he thought.  He really didn't want to do this… but the Irishman had seemed more stable lately… /Farf?/

/Aye?/  The younger man's mental voice was oddly childlike… it was weird.

/Nagi says Takatori was watching him today?/

The Irishman growled.  /Aye… like a wolf watching a lamb.  Take care of the lamb… the wolf wants him./

/Do you mean Takatori was looking at Nagi like he was…/

/A call girl on the corner.  I think your 'koala' likes little boys./

This time it was Schu who growled.  /Thanks for the warning./  Farfarello didn't respond, returning to whatever chaotic thoughts amused him when he was alone.  Bren opened his eyes.  Nagi hadn't moved… still twisting his hands together.  "Nagi…"  A pair of midnight eyes rose to meet his.  "I'm glad you told me.  Farfie and I know to watch him… we won't let anything happen, okay?"

"Okay."  Nagi didn't seem terribly reassured… but after what had happened to him before, Bren wasn't surprised.

"Do you want to stay in here tonight?"  The boy nodded.  "Okay.  I'm tired… why don't you do whatever you need to and come back so we can go to bed."  He watched the young teen slip out of the room, then he flopped back on the bed.  'Oh FUCK!  Why couldn't they have a normal employer for once?!'

**

TBC…

Yeah I know… REALLY short… but it's not because of lack of interest or ideas… but time.  I've spent four days in Nagasaki, then tomorrow I fly back to America for a week.  My computer is not going with me and I knew this would be the only day I could upload a chapter… so I rushed through it.  Also, obviously there will be no updates until after I get back and have time to write… so it will probably be a week and a half or two weeks before any updates will happen.  Thank you for your patience.  -Yan


	46. The Calm Before the Storm

**_Rosenkreuz… sweet Rosenkreuz_**

**Chapter 46: The Calm Before the Storm**

As far as superiors went, Mukhtar was as decent as they could hope for.  He treated them with respect, since he was a psi himself, and unless he specifically needed them, left them alone.  For the most part, Crawford's presence, or occasionally Schuldich's as well was sufficient.  Only a couple times did they take Farfarello and Nagi with them.  The boy was becoming immersed in the cybernetic world.  His hacking skills were advancing rapidly and the things he could do with a computer were nothing short of amazing.  Crawford encouraged this, saying that it would come in handy.  Bren was just as happy to keep Nagi home with his electronics and OUT of sight.  He watched over the boy like a mother bear the few times that they had to be in Takatori's presence.

As a courtesy, Brad had requested that Schuldich NOT go into Takatori's mind… without being asked; so he couldn't see what the politician was REALLY thinking.  But then again, one didn't have to read minds when the man's body language was enough.  Out of respect… or possibly fear, the man was keeping his distance… for now.  He better continue to keep away or he would be taking a short flight out the nearest window… the organization be damned.

As part of the process of the High Council's Master Plan for Ruling the World… they went with Mukhtar to check out a museum that had fallen on hard times.  The place was actually quite beautiful, perched on the edge of the ocean, but it was out of the way for the majority of tourists and so was financially strapped and teetering on the edge of bankruptcy.  What interested Mukhtar, and by extent, the council, was the cavern complex underneath the museum.  

At one time, the place had been consecrated as a shrine, the central focus of which had been the cavern.  But over time, the shrine had been destroyed, probably during the war, the priests died or fled, and the place was abandoned.  Then western entrepreneurs came in after the war and bought or simply took the land, turning the area into first a resort, then when that died out, a museum.  Now… it was to be the location for whatever the council was planning.  The details of which were on a 'need to know' basis… and apparently they didn't feel that Crawford's team needed to know.

Stepping into the cavern, Bren looked around… then shivered.  There was… something to the place… a… presence, for lack of a better description.  An energy, a feeling, it didn't have thoughts per se… but there was definitely something there.  His empathy was considerably weaker than his telepathy and he couldn't really trace or reach out to that feeling, just passively acknowledge it.  He watched as Nagi surreptitiously inched closer to him, looking around with wide eyes.  He had suspected for a while that the boy was a bit empathic, he was probably getting the same feeling he was picking up.  Brad was calmly looking around and commenting to Mukhtar, as unflappable as always.  Farfarello was… looking at him, a question in his eyes.

/What?/

/Ye feel it, don't ye?  The lamb too?/

/What do you mean?/

/The sidhe are restless…/

/'Sidhe'?/

/Faeries… gods… spirits… call 'em what ye will…/

/Ah… you… 'feel' it…/

/Don't we all?  They…/  He nodded toward their superiors.  /… they are good at ignoring what they don't want to deal with./

/Ah… are the spirits… a danger?/

/T'us?/  He smirked… unnerving Nagi who didn't know why the Irishman was looking their way in the first place.  /Only if ye anger them… only if ye anger 'em…/  He wandered off to poke into the darker areas of the cavern.

"Schu?"

"We were talking… don't let him bother you."  The kid didn't reply… but he also didn't stray far from the redhead for the rest of their 'visit'.

**

"Brad… that place is just damn creepy."

"I think that's the point…"

"What?"

"Think about it… they want to hold some type of ceremony… what better way to reinforce their hold over the others in the organization than to stage it in a place like that.  The workers are going to begin construction next week.  If you haven't noticed by now, the High Council has a bit of a flare for the dramatic… and theatrics are a good way to inspire awe in the masses."

"You're not awed?"

"By their cheap… or rather quite expensive tricks?  No."

"But…"

"Their powers are another story… you haven't met them yet, have you?"

"No."

"You will… they are… strong… how strong I can't tell you… no one that's living, really knows.  But they have held their positions for a long time… longer than should be possible.  That tells me that they are strong of will if nothing else… and that makes them dangerous.  So…"

"So no thoughts of staging a mutiny when around them, huh?"

Brad frowned.  "Don't even joke about that… At least one is a telepath.  You may be the most powerful one Rosenkreuz has put out in a generation or two… but we have no way of knowing how strong they are.  Another is a telekinetic of Nagi's caliber… and these are their primary powers… you know how strong Mukhtar is… and he's is below them in rank."

"Not everyone wants to be at the top of the heap…"

"He would… if he had the power to hold the position.  The fact that he hasn't tried to move up into the High Council speaks volumes of their power.  DON'T do anything to cross them.  If they decide to have you removed… there will be nothing I can do."

"You're scaring me a bit…"

"Good.  God knows nothing else has…"

"Screw you… speaking of which…"  He gave Brad a sultry smile.  "It's been a couple days… All work and no play makes Braddy a tense boy…"

**

After nearly ten months, Bren was a bit surprised to find how accustomed he'd become to living the life of an expat in Japan.  He had FINALLY convinced Brad to let him take a driver's test… when he passed… on the third try… Mukhtar had surprised him with a car.  No more stuffy, crowded subway for him… that red sports car was his pride and joy… he spent most of the first weekend washing and waxing and shining every inch of his 'baby'.  Nagi just snickered and went back to upgrading his computer… again.

They were starting to have problems with Farfarello again though.  The man had taken an interest in the local religious community.  He managed to sneak out one Sunday and found a church conducting mass… the result wasn't pretty.

After they had tracked him down and dragged him back.  Brad had thrown him into the room they had converted into a cell.  Unfortunately… he was really out of it and exceedingly violent.  He had almost hurt Nagi when the boy had brought him his dinner and that was enough to push Crawford into one of his rare rages.  He beat the pale man for a bit then yelled at him.  The Irishman started to spit obscenities and religious verse back, then outright attacked Brad.

In the end… the American was banged up pretty good and Farfarello had to be treated by a doctor.  At some point, no one was sure when… something had happened to the Irishman's left eye.  The doctor said he thought the damage might be permanent, they would just have to wait and see.  Farfarello just shrugged it off.  It didn't hurt after all… he really didn't care, just one more scar…

Nagi declared them all freaks and locked himself in his room.

Some days… Bren was inclined to agree with the boy.

As for himself, the German was finding himself incredibly bored.  Sure they had little 'enforcement' jobs now and then… and it was always fun to go beat someone up for a bit… and maybe even kill them… he even experimented with controlling their minds first and making the incidents look like accidents or suicides, just for some variety.  Brad commended him on this new use of his skills.  But it was still boring.

He started to go out, just to 'go out'.  Venturing into dance clubs and bars, hoping for a few hours of flirting and fun and maybe a little activity afterwards.  Crawford never approved and would glare at him when he staggered back, but reserved his lectures for when the redhead wasn't half drunk… he knew better than to get totally smashed out in public, especially when he went out alone.  He also didn't take his beloved car… the legal limit in Japan was ZERO and he really didn't care to get picked up, not to mention the possibility of damage to his precious 'baby'.  One time a guy at one of the clubs, a cute little brunette with a fetish for leather, gave him something to try.  The beating he got after coming home high was enough to land him in bed for two days.

That was a mistake… he knew that… but it felt good.  He remembered all the crap he'd gone through after his little 'vacation' in Paris, and he really didn't want to repeat that… but a little once in a while wouldn't hurt.  Apparently Brad didn't agree and grounded him for a week.  Grounded him!  Like he was some little kid.  Even took his car keys.  Nagi found it amusing, until he got stuck babysitting the very cranky and bored telepath.  Bren had enjoyed needling the kid… it was entertaining… till Nagi literally threw him out of his room and slammed the door behind him.  That boy was just no fun.

Once off parole, he started to take Farfarello out on little 'field trips' to cause mayhem and destruction.  All activities sanctioned by his 'royal highness' of course.  Mostly they were for Takatori… or the occasional moonlighting side jobs Crawford would pick up, for the additional income and to increase their reputation.  They had to make a name for themselves if they were going to be the top of the local underground scene.  A few well planned and executed jobs, letting Farf off his lease… and they certainly were on their way.  Their names were getting around… they could always tell who had heard of them, there was a wary respect in their eyes and a distance they would keep.

All in all… by the time Mukhtar was satisfied that the plan was in motion and transferred them to Takatori's employ… Bren was quite happy with his life.  Now… if only they could have some interesting opponents to play with…

**

TBC…

Yeah… it's been a while…  My trip home was nice, short, but good.  I'll be happy to get back in July though.  I really do love what I'm doing, and I like Japan… but I miss certain people and things.  I just got the last two WK DVDs and I've been watching them for most of the last two days.  I've been counting the number of lines Nagi has… In episode 22 (the one with Tot and the 'slap' and the mansion falling down ^_^ ) He spoke 36 times!!!!!  Amazing… and here I thought he didn't have 36 lines in the whole show.  ^_~  Hopefully all this Weiss watching will inspire my muse to FINISH this… I've caught up with the series… finally…


	47. Opponents on the Playing Field

**_Rosenkreuz… sweet Rosenkreuz_**

**Chapter 47: Opponents on the Playing Field**

"You won't be needed."

"Oh goody, watching guys kill each other for over a million yen prize isn't my idea of a good time.  And that Hikage guy is just a freak."

"Good to know you aren't upset about staying home."

"Nah… I'll spend the evening bugging Nagi… See you when you get back."

Brad nodded and grabbed his suit coat.  The limousine pulled up just as he stepped out the front door of the apartment mansion.  After Muhktar left, the American had caved in to Schuldich's desires and found them a penthouse apartment.  As Takatori was paying their room and board, he didn't mind too much.  The apartment was very nice, large (for Japan), and private.  It also happened to be in one of the numerous buildings owned by Takatori, though the man himself didn't live at this particular building.  

They had settled in quickly.  Against Schuldich's strenuous objections, he had enrolled Nagi in an exclusive and very private school.  It was also very expensive… again; the cost was picked up by Takatori.  Brad had explained to the school officials that the boy's health was quite delicate and he had a tendency to miss days on occasion because of that.  Thus he eliminated the questions Nagi's potential absences might bring.

Within minutes, Crawford was alighting from the limo and entering the building that housed Takatori's residence.  From here they would be going to the event by helicopter, the politician's latest 'toy'.  The man was obsessed with power… a little TOO obsessed.  Brad suspected that would be the man's eventual downfall, he would just have to make sure they didn't get dragged down with him.  He stepped out of the elevator and into his employer's residence.

"Ah… Crawford-san, just in time.  Shall we go?"

"Whenever you are ready, Mr. Takatori."

**

He carefully schooled his features into an expression of polite attentiveness.  It was hard not to laugh at Hikage though.  If the man was so concerned that people not know his real appearance, there were ways other than dressing in drag.  Then again the man pulled it off quite well… maybe too well.  Crawford kept his views to himself however, following Takatori as they walked over to the large plate glass windows that looked out over the illegal casino and gaming area.

Out on the checkerboard battle floor, was the evening's potential champion.  Brad sneered.  How desperate did one have to be to sign up for this?  Word was out on the streets.  Show up at a certain back door, bring a weapon or get one from the discards of the failed, sign your soul away, then you might be randomly picked to fight… to the death, for the enjoyment of the gamblers above.  IF you lived… the reward was a million yen, less than US $10,000.  It was essentially suicide.  Hikage and Takatori seemed interested in the current fighter however, saying he looked strong.

Crawford watched him with a practiced eye.  Yes… for a street thug he was strong and would never hold up against a trained fighter.  Schuldich would wipe the floor with him in minutes, without using his powers.  Farfarello would take less time.  Even Nagi wouldn't do too badly, provided he could be prodded to act.  This… thug, he wouldn't dignify the man with the term 'fighter', would last, until he faced a real opponent.  Ah… Takatori was requesting a closer look… not surprising; he would probably start placing his bets soon.  He had to agree with Schuldich, the whole affair was distasteful.  Hikage showed them to a table, and then excused himself, saying he had to take care of a new arrival.

As he suspected… Takatori watched for only a couple minutes before getting up, in search of a drink and someone to place bets with.  He followed along as was expected; refusing a drink politely, it was never good to drink while on duty, very unprofessional.  Suddenly, it sounded like there was a small explosion and the lights flickered, a woman screaming.  Takatori frowned, not pleased that his evening was being disrupted.  

A voice, sounding like it was patched through a P.A. system was calling for Hikage to come out, threatening more explosions.  Hikage's primary bodyguard called out that he was Hikage, the real one called for the game to continue.  Takatori wandered over and addressed their host.  "What's going on?"

The balding bodyguard answered.  "This'll be over soon.  The games are rough today."

Lovely… make it THAT much more difficult to keep tabs on Takatori-san.  Hikage moved toward the controller's seat, his obsession with watching the fighting and death overriding any sense of self-preservation he had.  They were in a good location to watch as the next fighter appeared.  He was a thin young man, with magenta-red hair, dressed in a truly hideous orange sweater.  Was the man color blind?  As Crawford had believed earlier… the street thug didn't stand a chance against a trained fighter, which this 'boy' obviously was.  Hikage, consumed by his lust for blood and death, called up another fighter, which the young man eliminated swiftly… then surprisingly he revealed Hikage.  Schuldich should have come… this was proving more interesting than he had expected.

He thought it a shame when their host dropped the floor, he wanted to see what the young man would do next.  He was as surprised as everyone else when the redhead reappeared.  It was totally out of place, but Crawford wondered if the man had seen one too many Batman comics.  When he landed over Hikage, the American thought the young man would slash with that sword of his and that would be the end of it.  But he wasn't looking at the man in drag… he was looking at…  Crawford's eyes glanced to the side at his employer.

More explosions startled everyone and the lights went down.  The precog got a hint of the future.

*a man… red hair… dark clothing… wielding a sword like a modern-day samurai… descending from above…*

The emergency lights came on.  Hikage hurried back and the guards with automatic weapons closed in around them.  Crawford was not pleased, this placed Takatori in danger.  Within moments the guards had been shot… with crossbow bolts?!  This was getting difficult to handle, he got his employer's attention.  "It's dangerous here, let's go."  The moved toward the exit, Crawford keeping all his senses alert, a hand on his gun.

Takatori paused, looking up.  Crawford looked up as well.  They saw that young man charging at them, now in a dark belted trenchcoat, sword raised… it was a sight worthy of film.  "TAKATORIIIIIIII!!"  Intriguing…  "SHINEEE!"

The American stepped forward; the boy's focus was entirely on the Japanese man.  He caught the swordsman's wrist, pivoting and flipping him.  He peered down, chuckling at the surprise in the young man's eyes.  Focus was all well and good, but you had to be aware of the other players in the game if you wanted to win at it.  He released the man's wrist, the breath was knocked out of him, he wouldn't be up for a minute or so.  Out of nowhere a crossbow bolt came flying towards them; he caught a glimpse of it with his power and was able to catch it, midair.  He turned toward his employer.  "Mr. Takatori, it looks like we should get out of here."

"Aa."  Takatori turned, heading for the exit to the room.  He followed, negligently tossing the bolt back over his shoulder.  Reaching into a pocket, he thumbed the call button for the helicopter.  He escorted the politician to the roof, the casino was in chaos.  The helicopter arrived shortly after them and he ushered Takatori in.  As they started to lift off, he looked out and saw that young swordsman again.  He smirked.  How persistent…  They left.

"It seems that you have an enemy, Mr. Takatori."  He commented, watching the figures on the roof.

"Indeed.  I have many enemies… a few are still alive."

"Aa… well I shall endeavor to uncover who this latest group works for."

"Do that.  We have a lunch meeting tomorrow; I won't need you before then."

"Very well, sir."

**

"What?  You've got that look in your eye…"

"It's too bad you didn't come along…"  He took off his suit coat and then his shoulder holster, hanging them up.  Then he started with his tie.  Bren was lounging on his bed, reading a book.  He decided the invasion of his room was forgivable tonight.

"Why?  What happened?"

"Take a look."  He lowered his shields… just enough to let the telepath see what had taken place.  He smirked at the look on the redhead's face.

"Interesting… so we might have some rivals after all."

"It would keep things from getting boring.  I'll have Nagi start digging up information in the morning.  It's Saturday so he won't have school."

"I still think…"

"Yes I know… everyone within hearing range knows.  Now… was there a particular reason you decided to wait up?"

Bren smirked and stretched seductively.  "I thought you'd never ask…"

Yes, the redhead was being smug about it… but Brad wasn't inclined to take him to task for that now.  It had been a busy night after all… and as Bren would say, he needed 'stress relief'.  He doubted their superiors would approve of this method however… at least with a subordinate.  Too bad.

He finished removing the tie and reached for the buttons of his shirt.  "Oh, get over here and let me do that."  He looked at the redhead for a moment… then complied, sitting on the edge of the bed and letting the telepath undo his shirt.  He didn't want to turn Bren into some kind of servant… but if it made him happy to take care of him, he wasn't going to complain.  Of course, if the redhead was going to do THAT to his chest every time, he'd let the man undress him more often.

He could practically feel Bren smirk when he moaned softly.  He pulled the shirt off the rest of the way and laid back, arms crossed behind his head, essentially giving the redhead permission to do as he willed.  He nearly curled up though as the telepath took advantage of the situation and went for one of his ticklish spots.  "Do that again and you can just leave."

"Sorry… I couldn't resist."

"Resist harder."

"How about I do this instead?"  Bren undid the button of the cream slacks, drawing the zipper down slowly.

"Tease."

"Of course… you were expecting something different?"

"I was expecting to be having sex by now."

"And this isn't?"

"This is foreplay.  Sex is what comes after."

"Ah… then shall we skip this and get straight to the sex then?"

"That would be nice."  He sat up and removed the rest of his clothing as Bren wiggled out of his tank top and boxers.

"You know… some day you're going to find out just how much fun 'playtime' can be."

"If you want to play… I can think up any number of ways to do that.  Most of them require a little planning though… and maybe some shopping."  He thought of one of the more lurid ideas, dropping his shields just enough.  He smirked as those jade eyes closed and the redhead shivered with lust.

"Ooooh… if you want to do THAT… feel free anytime."

"Good to know… but for now."  He pulled Bren over, rolling over to cover him.  Their naked bodies stretched along each other.  "Lovely… but I think that's enough talk."

"Oh… I totally agree."  Bren smiled again… more open and trusting than at any other time.  It was the one moment where both were completely honest with each other.  "Stop thinking and just get to it."

So he did.

**

TBC…

No… I will not be doing this for every episode… that would take forever.  I'm going to hit the important ones… this one was the first appearance by a member of Schwarz, so I had to use it.  Course they don't know who they are up against yet… no mention of the name 'Weiß' in the episode… yes I rewatched it to check.  It's so handy having the DVDs here.  ^___^  Hope everyone enjoyed, I'm hoping things will proceed faster now that I can use the shows as a framework for the chapters and I don't have to rely entirely on my horribly distractible muse...


	48. Sideshow Freaks

**_Rosenkreuz… sweet Rosenkreuz_**

**Chapter 48: Sideshow Freaks**

It hadn't taken Nagi all that long to find out who it was that opposed Takatori Reiji… none other than the man's own brother, Shuuichi. Past that, the young hacker had run into a virtual brick wall.  It was actually in a round-about way, from reports of other underworld factions, that he had discovered the name of the organization Shuuichi was leading, Kritiker.  They hadn't figured out why the Japanese man had chosen such a foreign name.  Once Nagi knew what he was looking for, he had more success in finding information.  He didn't touch Kritiker's system itself, not wanting to tip them off accidentally.  But Kritiker's enemies had plenty of information to be 'borrowed'.

At the end of the day, Nagi placed a file on Brad's desk with all the information he had been able to scrape together.  It wasn't much.

"Weiß, they call themselves Weiß.  Reports vary on how many agents are involved… but apparently they don't use firearms.  They work for Kritiker, headed by Takatori Shuuichi.  Pictures, unfortunately very poor ones, of the suspected agents are in the file.  I'm sorry I can't get more."  Nagi seemed truly disappointed.  Brad shook his head.

"No.  I'm sure you did as well as you could.  Don't let it interfere with your school work, but keep searching."

"Hai."

The man turned to the redhead next.  "Next time we see Takatori Shuuichi, or if we run into these Weiß people again…"

"Scan them?"

"If you can, but don't be obvious about it."

"I know what you mean."

"Good.  They may not truly be in our league, but mistakes are still fatal, even for us."

**

Takatori's younger son was just plain creepy, not to mention a freak.  And that was saying a lot, coming from him.  As a scientist Masafumi would fit right in with the research department at Rosenkreuz, in fact, Bren was a little surprised that Esset hadn't grabbed the man already.  Not all their scientists were psis after all.  He could only chalk it up to the fact the man seemed fundamentally unstable, not that anyone that he'd met so far from this family WAS stable.  So it was with a great deal of amusement that he watched the freak get verbally blasted by his father.

The creep was being careless; there was no doubt about that.  In the first place, the test subjects should never have had the opportunity to escape.  Secondly, why hadn't they been apprehended before now?  Wasn't that why the freak had his… 'harem'?  Talk about unstable.  And now the media was involved… lovely.  Just what Takatori needed before the election.  Privately, Bren thought the koala was about the worse thing that could happen to Japan, but Esset was quite keen that he be in power for whatever they were planning.  Something that no doubt involved that creepy run-down museum.  Creepy seemed to be his word of the day.

A giggle from that aqua-haired girl brought his attention back.  She was really out to lunch… unfortunately Nagi seemed to be fascinated by her.  THAT would have to be remedied.  Masafumi seemed less than concerned, even when his father's threats turned slightly physical.  Did the freak really think his 'dolls' could stand up to them?  If he did, he was more deluded than his experiments suggested.

They followed along behind Takatori like the good lapdogs they were pretending to be.  Farf was largely disinterested in everything.  Nagi was wondering how long they would have to follow the koala around, and when he could see the giggling psycho girl again.  Brad was being the good employee and discussing the situation with his 'superior'.

"Are you sure you want to let Masafumi-sama get away with this?  Isn't this why you brought us along?"

No Brad… he brought us along so he didn't have to be alone with his son and the freak show.

"This is his last warning.  If he makes a mistake again… you take care of it, Crawford."

"Hai."

/Yes, sir… of course sir… we're good little lapdogs, sir./

/Schuldich, behave./

/Like you weren't thinking the same thing?/  They stood in a loose semicircle around the man as they waited for the elevator.  As was generally the case when they were 'on duty', the telepath had the all loosely linked mentally.  Surprisingly, Nagi also made a comment.

/Masafumi's interesting./

Bren frowned slightly.  /How so?/

/He thinks like we do.  He formed the ladies' group because he aspires to be like us, ne?/

/Well, that's his first mistake./  Scorn tinged his mental 'voice'.  Masafumi couldn't even come close to them.

Farfarello snorted.  /Scherient… his gaudy dolls./

Bren had to agree with the Irishman's assessment.  Dolls… that's about all they were.  Sure they looked pretty… but they were nothing.  It wasn't because they were women… he knew plenty of female Rosenkreuz graduates that were more than a match for the men.  But Masa's dolls, they were broken… the whole lot of them.  Maybe in another life he would have felt sorry for them.  But he didn't.  They were just trouble.

**

Bren thought he was going to be sick… the scene was so sappy-sweet it was enough to cause cavities.  That boy needed a serious talking to.  Brad was going to have a fit… they weren't… well, Nagi anyways, wasn't supposed to use his powers except when on a mission.  That was because his powers where more physically draining than theirs.  As for HER… that had to be the silliest weapon he'd ever seen.  Someone had been watching too much Batman again… at least the Penguin episodes.   First that redhead in Weiß and now the umbrella-wielding bunny girl.  He had to admit, he wasn't happy when she brandished her Umbrella-of-Death at Nagi… but the boy handled it well.  Unfortunately he didn't send the girl sailing through the air, but no one was perfect.

"I came to see you… Because you are very different."

Oh, she's different all right.  Maybe Nagi required more than a 'talking to'… maybe a slap would be better.  Farf was making gagging noises beside him.  Nice to know they agreed on something.

"Aren't you lonely?"

Aaah… so THAT was the boy's problem.  They would have to find a way to create a play group for Nagi.  He had to admit… sending the sakura flying around was a nice touch.  The kid would be quite a charmer… if he wasn't barking up the wrong tree.  The aqua menace ran back to the house and Nagi let the petals fall again.  Now would be a good chance…

"Have you fallen for her?"  Please tell me you haven't… don't make me any sicker than I already am.

"What are you talking about?"

Crap… he had… hopefully this was still salvageable.  But it was Farf oddly enough who spoke up with the voice of reason.  "You might have to kill her."

"If the order comes…"

Oh no… this was definitely NOT good… Brad is gonna have a cow…  Then again… that would be funny to watch too.

**

Brad resisted the urge to smirk.  He listened as Takatori dealt with whatever lesser personnel he had for such things.  "I will leave it to you to take care of the police who witnessed the scene.  Don't leave any traces behind."  Not a good idea… one should never touch the police unless there are no other options.  Then again, having a brother who was chief of police AND head of an underground vigilante organization yet did nothing legally against the man…  He focused his attention on Takatori.

"That fool… Masafumi, I have enough of him!  Crawford."

Right on time.  "Hai.  If I may… Don't you think it's only a matter of time before things resolved themselves?"  Why should we become involved if Weiß seems interested in doing our job for us.  Besides, it will give us a chance to observe them without engaging.

"And you can see these things… the future?"

You have no idea, Mr. Takatori… no idea at all.  He didn't respond, merely nodded in a superior way that had infuriated Bren for years.  Once Takatori left for whatever it was he did… it certainly wasn't running his numerous endeavors, he had lackey's for that… Crawford pulled out his phone and dialed Schu's number.

"Schuldich."

"Brad… you won't believe…"

"I know."

"Of course you did.  Next time warn me… I almost lost my lunch."

"Are you done?"

"For now, what's up?"

"Takatori's given the green light."

"Oh goody… we get to go in?"

"No… we stand back and let THEM do all the hard work."

"Even better.  So should we head back?"

"Negative.  Stay there and observe, but DON'T interfere."

"That sounds like I'll want to."

"Just a warning.  Come back after it's over with."

"You mean it's all going down tonight?"

"See you when you get back."  He hung up, smirking at the imagined look of irritation on the redhead's face.  Served the man right, for all the aggravation he had given the precog over the years.  Oh yes… it would all be settled by tonight.  He was struck by a sudden vision and caught the edge of a chair.  Nagi… and… no…

**

He had to hand it to the man… when he was right, he was right.  He lightly scanned the four shadows when they arrived and almost died laughing… or rather almost laughed and gave their location away.  Farf was watching through a pair of binoculars and Nagi was playing petulant teenager.  Flowerboys… their arch enemies… were florists.  That was great… he couldn't wait to share with Brad.  Hmmm… four members… Weiß, just like Nagi found out.  Codenames… cat breeds?  He suddenly didn't dislike his codename as much as he had before… not that he really liked it at all, or that they used them much.  But cat breeds?  Hmm… Abyssinian was the one with the sword… he was as anal as Brad… and that was really saying something.  Siberian… seemed to be more interested in Mr. Uptight's rear until the fighting started.  

Bombay… the 'baby' of the group… and not one Bren would want to meet in a dark alley.  That kid… he was scary… all genki smiles on the outside, but inside… hmm… He'd get along great with Nagi… that was an idea.  Get Nags off the bunny girl and onto the kitten.  Finally Balinese… hmmm…  He grabbed the binoculars from Farf to get closer look at that one.  Lanky blond… shades… stupid coat… oh yeah, Mr. I'm an Assassin so I'll put WHITE crosses on my sleeves… they show up nicely in the dark… like little targets.  It could be worse, it could be across his back or front.

The fight was interesting.  He kept a mental 'tab' on the combatants.  Masa was just as much of a deluded freak as he had pegged him as being.  What idiot would actually take an imperfect serum like that?  Apparently Takatori's biochemist son.  Now his outside matched his freaky inside.  What's this?  He recognized little Bombay… Mamoru?  Mamoru… he made a mental note to tell Brad and have Nagi check up on that.  He could swear he'd heard that name before.  Eventually the building was engulfed in flames.  Weiß had departed and Scherient was trying to dig their way out of the rubble.

"Not bad… these Weiß guys."  He commented aloud.

"I'm getting excited."  Farf smiled and licked his blade.

/A)… that's just scary… and B)… that's disgusting.  Do you know where that poniard's been?/

/Of course… I cleaned it good./

/Still…/  Nagi was still sulking when suddenly he turned and started to make his way down to the ruins of the house.  Farf moved as if to go with him… or stop him, Bren wasn't sure which.  The telepath grabbed the Irishman's arm.  "Don't… Brad said no matter what happened, not to interfere."

"He's gonna go save that girly he likes."

"I know… we'll make fun of him all the way home.  By the way… this is what I learned from our kittens tonight…"

**

TBC…

Yes… I am totally nauseated by that Nagi-Tot scene.  Honestly, I don't mind Tot.  She's cute and I feel sorry for her… I mean, if she says her real daddy is a bad man and she hates him, compared to who she lives with… he's got to be a real bastard.  That doesn't mean I think she would work out as a good partner for Nagi.  Temporary puppy love, sure… soul-mate?  I don't think so.  BTW… I haven't said it… but the dialogue parts from the series are taken from the commercial DVD subtitles.  I don't have my fansub versions here to compare with so you'll just have to deal with these.  ^_^  And TWO new chapters in the same week, aren't you proud of me?


	49. Spare the Rod

**_Rosenkreuz… sweet Rosenkreuz_**

**Chapter 49: Spare the Rod…**

The 7th Annual Independent Party Convention… opening with a gala cocktail party, catered by only the finest chefs, unlimited drinks of all types, a guest list in the hundreds… a security nightmare.

He had come down with Schuldich to take a look at how the facility was shaping up.  The hall itself was decorated, though there was still some minor moving of tables going on.  They met back in a side hallway to discuss the security issues.  He was going through possible problems when he noticed the redhead was distracted by something.

"What is it?"

Just then the telepath lifted his head slightly and smirked.  He made buzzing noises as Brad turned to see what was going on… and caught only the backs of the disappearing florists… the ones who had been setting up arrangements all over the place.  "Three flies buzzing around."

Aaaah… so they WEREN'T just florists… who knew Weiß had a day job?  "Leave them alone, flies don't live long.  They are destined to die."  He smirked

"You saw something?"

He turned and started to walk away… let Hirofumi dither over setting up the place.  "Maybe…"

"I hate when you do that."

"I know."

**

He truly despised this.  So many people crowded together… all their inane thoughts… getting worse as the alcohol flowed.  Besides… he had to wear a suit.  He hated suits.  Especially stuff ones like Braddy usually wore.  In revenge, he had worn the most hideous tie he owned and was rewarded by the American's visible wince when he had come out.  Nagi had snickered, glad that he got to stay home.  Bren gave him a bit of a headache for that.

So now he was standing there… bored… drinking soda because Braddy-boy refused to let him drink anything good while on duty.  He watched as the youngest kitten arrived with Ouka… now THAT was amusing.  He had gotten Nagi to dig up a little information on 'Takatori Mamoru'… interesting reading there.  He thought it was a little harsh on Reiji's part… Mamoru had only been a kid.  Besides… brats didn't pick the losers they ended up with for parents.  Obviously the kitten DIDN'T know who he was… or who Princess Ouka was.  He wondered if Brad would let him 'play' with them.

Brad had just told him to walk around when Hirofumi dragged the Weiß kitten off.  Being curious as a cat himself… he decided to listen in on their little conversation.

"Someone wants me dead and you work for him, don't you?  Who is it?"

"Niisan, listen… let me explain…"

"Answer my question!"

Just as he had thought… the brotherly discussion wasn't going well.  But little Bombay seemed to have recovered some of his memories… then again… Schu did a light scan of Hirofumi.  He nearly burst out laughing.  He didn't know.  'Mamoru' obviously didn't know either.  That meant that dear old Reiji never told anyone the truth about Mamoru's father.  This was great…

Hirofumi laughed.  "You're young.  Never mind, maybe you'll understand how I feel when you grow up."

"I'll never be like you!"

Schu had to hand it to the kitten, he had guts, watching the boy stalk off… fur ruffled.  Hirofumi wasn't quite the evil mastermind his father was, but he wasn't unstable like Masa.  He did have a lot of resources at his disposal… but right now he wanted to…  "What a brat… Isn't that what you're thinking?"  Of course it is… I just plucked that from your mind… like ripe fruit…

"Shudeji, when did you…"

He really wished these people could learn how to say his name without mangling it…  "Let me handle this, I'll make your plan work out."

"Very well… bring him to my place… I can't let him interfere with father's goals…"  He watched the man walk out of the room.

/Brad… I need to run an errand for Hirofumi./

/Oh?/

/Yes… one kitten with free delivery./

/Don't let it get out of hand… it's Reiji we work for./

/I know./  Now… to find one lost kitten…

Ick… he thought he was going to be sick… the scene was as nauseating as watching Nags with the bunny girl.  This had to end.  He leapt onto the balcony, Ouka's eyes going wide with alarm.  He punched the blond, carefully… enough to knock him out, but not really hurt him.  He caught the kid as he fell and jumped up on the railing.  Schu smiled down at Ouka.  "I'm borrowing him."  He CAREFULLY jumped down to the parking area below, it really wasn't as big of a drop as it looked, then to the ground.  Getting to his beloved car… he dumped the kid in the trunk and drove to Hirofumi's deluxe apartment.

Hauling the boy out… he took him to the door and dumped him off on Hirofumi.  "There you go… one brat."

The older brother smiled, it wasn't a kind one.  Maybe he WAS as unstable as Masa… he just hid it better.  He went to the window.  By now the other members of Weiß would know… that bitch that followed Shuuichi around had been watching.  He glanced back over his shoulder.  Hirofumi had stripped his 'brother' to the waist and tied his wrists, dangling the boy from the ceiling so he had to balance on his tiptoes.  The older man pulled out a pipe he'd found somewhere.

Schuldich studiously ignored the beating going on behind him.  He did keep tabs to make sure the kid wouldn't end up dead… apparently Brad had a use for them.  Going into a side room, he changed out of that horrible suit into his 'work' clothes.  Then he went back to his window.

"Tell me, where are those assassins?"

The telepaths eyes narrowed.  'They're here...'  He hid himself, keeping track of the new guests' movements.  They were paused outside… as if waiting for something as their fourth member was getting the stuffing beaten out of him.  Nice friends.

"How long can you keep this up?  Tell me who told you to kill me!  Tell me whom you're working for!"

"I despise you!"

That makes two of us brat… I don't like him either.  What are your 'buddies' waiting for?  An engraved invitation?

"You brat!"  Another thunk… the kid's ribs must be breaking by now…

"No… NO!  You're not my brother!"  That seemed to be it… now the kittens were ready to get involved.

"Do you want to die?"  Hirofumi raised the pipe… this one would cave in the boy's skull… Fortunately for the blond kitten… his teammates were quick to intervene… finally.  As the uptight redhead slashed at Hirofumi, he used his power to confuse their minds… making it seem as if the man had disappeared.  He stood between them as their minds cleared.

"Run."  Fortunately Hirofumi was smart enough to do that, darting out the door.  The kittens charged at him and again he used his mental powers to confuse their minds into thinking he was exceedingly fast.  This was fun.  It didn't take long for Hirofumi to be in the clear… at which point he leapt for the window.  "Finally, I've seen your faces, I will come for your lives someday."  He jumped backward… landing lightly below and dashing for his car.  He really had to let Brad know what had happened.

Pulling back out onto the street, he dialed the American's cell phone.  "Crawford."

"Hi Brad… I'm having fun… how about you?"

"Just marvelous.  I'm having to explain to Takatori why you made off with his daughter's date."

"Ooops."

"You could say that… he's not pleased.  He will be less pleased when his surviving son is found dead."

"What?!  I just got him out of there…"

"Darling Mamoru isn't taking being nearly beaten to death by his 'brother' too well… he's going to ambush him later."

"Crap… should I stop it?"

"No… let it play out… it should spur Takatori to move in the direction we want him to go… besides, Hirofumi is a  nuisance, much like Masafumi."

"Okay… if you say so.  Should I come back to the party?"

"Go home… I'll be there later."  The man hung up.  Bren shook his head and folded the phone, sticking it in his pocket.  So… the little kitten had some serious claws… that just made playing with him more fun.

**

"You've really done it this time…"

"What did I do now?"

"Now Ouka is getting a little too interested in what her 'Omi-kun' is involved in."

"So… if the little princess gets involved she gets hurt and we're rid of the dead weight."

"Schuldich… Takatori was willing to overlook the deaths of his sons… they were an annoyance and hindrance to him.  He will NOT overlook anything happening to that girl."  He paused… eyes losing focus.  Bren waited… he wondered again what it was like for Brad to have a vision?  Did he 'see' it… like an internal movie?  Was it like a dream?  The man's eyes cleared, and then took on a harder glare.

"Problem?"

"Yes… Ouka will invite her Omi-kun to have dinner with her parents tonight.  It won't end well… Takatori will be dead…  Go make sure this 'date' never happens."

"How?"

"I'll leave that up to you… just don't kill any of them… I don't know how things will work out if someone dies at this stage."

"Will do.  I'll be back later."

**

The red car followed the pair on the pink delivery bike.  'What a ridiculous vehicle… even for a flowershop, and what was the princess doing riding with him?'  They stopped outside the apartment mansion Ouka and her mother lived in.  'Ah… delivery.'  Finding a parking spot around the corner, Schu backtracked to wait across the street.  He watched as the kitten walked back out, his mind on the night's sudden social engagement.

"Ouka-san is so pushy."

Schu tried not to laugh… it would totally ruin the effect.  "You bet she is."  He did smile at the shocked look on the young assassin's face.  This was great… like an unscripted play.

"Who's there?"

Cue entrance… "It's me."  He stepped out from behind the tree to lounge against it.

"You!"

It was almost as if the boy HAD read the script.  "It must be nice being young…"  Even if this situation reeks of junior high.

"What?"

"Going on a date after killing both of your brothers…"  Oh yeah… struck a nerve with that one.  "How optimistic.  You've fallen in love with Ouka-sama, haven't you?"  He chuckled to himself.  "You just said to yourself 'I sure have.'"  That was a little on the squicky side… even for cousins.  "You said Masafumi and Hirofumi were evil, so you killed them.  But you're in Weiß… so who are you to talk?"  Oh yeah… twist the knife a little more… take all his doubts and intensify them…  "You're a brother-killer."

He smiled as he caught the kitten's next thought.  'I'm a murderer.'  Yup… definitely read the script.

"Yes you are.  How else would you be able to kill your own brothers and still continue to murder people?"  Hypocrisy?  Perhaps, but then HE never pretended to be less than a nasty person… except maybe with Nagi… but that was a different story.  He smirked as the dart appeared in the kid's hand.  Good… the boy was prepared.  "See!  The murderer in you is hungry for blood.  If I told Ouka that you were a member of Weiß, an assassin group, what would she think?"

"Shut up!"

He laughed, enjoying the growing rage in the boy.  "Did I make you mad?"  The kitten made a threatening gesture.  "Oooooh… I'm scared.  I guess I should be going now."  He jumped up into the tree before the boy totally lost control and flung that dart at him.  He was quick… but the kid WAS a good shot… and who knew what that dart was tipped with.  He couldn't resist a parting shot though…

"The game has just begun… Look forward to the next round…"  He laughed and waited.  Sure enough… the boy's rage got the better of him and he did fling the dart after all… spearing a falling leaf.  Schu noted the boy's accuracy and made a mental note not to fight with him.  Nagi would probably be the best… or Brad… the kid could block the darts and the American could 'foresee' them.  He watched from the tree as the kitten retrieved the dart and took off on that silly pink delivery bike.

He jumped down once the bike was out of sight.  Well… there was his good deed for the day… he would have to see about the other side of the equation as well though…

**

TBC…

Poor poor Omi… victim of Schu's mind games.  Not to mention getting the crap beat out of him by his own 'brother'.  There was a good fic dealing with the aftermath of that beating once upon a time… but I think it got abandoned… I'll have to look it up again.  It was heading in the direction of Youji/Omi… not my favorite… but since the show never deals with the after effects of their injuries I was interested in what the author of the fic would do.  *sigh*  So many stories with good potential are abandoned… like unwanted kittens… -_-;


	50. Crime and Punishment

**_Rosenkreuz… sweet Rosenkreuz_**

**Chapter 50: Crime and Punishment**

AN: in reading this over… I'm realizing it might be difficult to tell the difference between Schu/Bren's words and his thoughts (privately I think sometimes HE forgets what is aloud and what isn't).  So I'm putting his thoughts into italics in this chapter.

Step one had been accomplished… now to drive a permanent wedge between the lovebirds.  Just as he expected, the 'princess' was walking that permed rat of hers, otherwise known as Mimi, a rather snippy little poodle.  He pulled up next to her and lowered the window.  "That's a cute dog… Hey…"  She looked at him, and started to back away; he just had that effect on some people.  Or it could be that she'd seen him kidnap her date the other night.

"There's nothing to be afraid of.  I'm your father's bodyguard."  He poured on the charm.

"Then why did you take Omi-kun away?"

_Sure… she WOULD have to ask that._  "Well, that's a little complicated."  _Yeah… there's an understatement.  "But I have some big news about that Omi you're so crazy about."_

"About Omi-kun?"

Hook.  

"You see, Omi's real name is Takatori Mamoru.  He's the third son of Reiji, your father."  _Well, not really but that's what we want you to think.  Ah… the little princess is shocked.  "That's right; you and Omi are brother and sister."  __What is this?… Star Wars?  "It's hard for me too… that I have to tell you this…"  _Well not really, it's endlessly entertaining._  "But it would be a lot harder to take if I waited until you two fell in love."  __Eeewww… teenagers…_

"No… you're lying!"

_Well… yeah, but…_  "And why would I do that?  If you don't believe me, why don't you ask someone?"  

Line.

"You just thought of your mother, didn't you?  That's the right answer."

"How?"

_Mundanes… so tedious sometimes_.  "Your mother will probably say she doesn't know.  Then tell her you'll ask your Daddy.  You'll get your answer."  

Sinker.  

He drove away, watching her in the rear-view mirror. [1]  She would ask… she had to know.  And her mother would answer… and then this annoying love-affair would be over with.  But… this was also the perfect opportunity to set up Bombay… maybe he could force a wedge in between the members of Weiß too.  He had just the idea…

**

"Oh come on, Nagi-kins… just a little computer manipulation of those pictures, and then send them to the flowerboys…"

"You want me to hack their system."

"Well… yes."

"Do you have any idea how difficult that is?"

"Do you want me to tell Braddy that you've been sneaking out to see Tot?"  The boy didn't respond, just snatched the pictures out of his hand.  Bren laughed.  He didn't think Nagi truly loved the bunny-girl; he was just suffering his first crush.  It wasn't like he had many opportunities to be around people his age, that annoyingly preppy, extremely expensive school didn't count.  Nagi spent no more time there than he had to and was bored in his classes besides.  He watched the boy work his electronic magic on first the photos… then the kitten's system.  

Finally he sat back with an aggrieved sigh.  "It's done."

He leaned over the kid's shoulder, knowing how much that irritated him.  "Good job, Nagi!  Keep up the good work!"

"This isn't my style."

"Doesn't it feel great to control people's minds?  I'm just sharing it with you.  You should be thankful."  They really needed to get him out more.  The kid seriously needed some sun.  He heard Farf chuckle on the other side of the room.  Someone else who needed some sun.  Maybe if he had time he'd take them to one of the parks that weekend.  Nagi would bitch about it, but Farf would have fun playing with the bunnies.  The door opened and his highness himself graced them with his presence.

"Schuldich, what are you up to now?"

~My new favorite game, screwing over Weiß.~  Then aloud,  "Hey, Crawford, did you know that people's minds taste like honey?"

"Don't get caught up in the sweet taste and forget to watch out for the bees."  ~Take Farfarello if you are going to play with them.~

"You're no fun at all."  ~Fine…~

**

He found it amusing.  He was following the princess… who was following her Omi-kun…  She didn't try to talk to him though, which meant what the redhead had told her, combined with what she'd heard from her mother, had an impact on her.  Damn he loved being right.  Now for the real clincher… "You shouldn't get involved with him anymore."

"But I can't leave him like this!"

_How nauseatingly junior high of her_… "I have no choice.  I didn't want to tell you this, but… that man, he's a murderer."  _So am I, and you are a royal pain in the…_

"What?!"

"I took him away at the hotel that night to save your father's life."  _Okay… a little bit of a lie… but not much actually.  If the two of them had bumped into each other…_

"NO… That's not true!"

He laughed, this was perfect… she was playing the part just the way he hoped.  "But your heart is honest.  Don't tell me you're not thinking, 'now that you mention it'."

"He just got caught up in an accident!  I believe in Omi!"

_Yeah… but how did he know to be at THAT club to get caught?  _"That's beautiful…"  _GAG ME!!  "But love is a very fragile thing… I will show you what I mean…"  Shocked, she actually followed him.  Once he'd gotten her around the corner and out of sight, he used his power to knock her out.  "Finally… you never shut up.  Even in your head."  He used some bandages they kept in the cars in the event that Farf decided to try to carve himself, and tied the girl up.  That done, he pulled out her phone.  Sure enough… Omi-chan's number… on speed dial no less._

-Ouka-san!-

Damn he wished he could see the kid's face.  "Wrong!"

-You again!-

_Me again_.  "I need to tell you something.  Weiß is trying to assassinate your precious Ouka."  He improvised quickly.

-What?!-

"She found out about Weiß, it's pretty bad."  He looked at her in the rearview mirror and smirked.  "Well, I was the one who told her about it, but…"  It was a little too quiet on the other end.  "Are you there?  She's going to be killed at that park she likes to walk that rat in… You know the one, ne?  Near her school.  I'd be quick if I were you…"  He hung up and tossed the phone into the back seat.  Now to swing by the apartment and pick up Farf like his highness commanded.  They would have plenty of time to get to the park and set everything up…

**

He really didn't like this game Schuldich was playing.  It wasn't smart, and it certainly wasn't safe.  He suspected one of the mental tenants the telepath tended to pick up from time to time was influencing him again.  That was the major problem with telepaths… they had a tendency to 'absorb' bits and pieces of others' personas if they weren't careful… especially if they were in contact with the other's mind at the time of death.  And Schuldich had never been one to be cautious.  He frowned when the redhead vanished again with Farfarello.  This really wasn't going to be good.

"Nagi… bedtime."

"Brad…"

"Now."  Nagi looked like he was going to argue… but then thought the better of it and went to his room to sulk.  He was starting to become difficult.  Brad supposed it was simply how all teenagers were at some point, but now was not a good time to be testing his authority.  Things were moving… in a direction he didn't really like and didn't think was good for them.  It would have to be monitored.

The vision hit with a suddenness and clarity that he hadn't experienced for quite a while.  He watched as the scene unfolded.  

_The girl, bound to the post… the approach of Weiß.  The appearance of their youngest member… the exchange of words… the swordsman with the violent temper trying to remove Schuldich's head with the post… the ensuing fight… the telepath running out of bullets and relying on his speed and mental tricks… the boy untying the girl and trying to get her to safety… Schuldich and Farfarello back to back, the redhead changing his clip, the Irishman also drawing his gun… the telepath firing at Weiß then running up the hill… Farfarello firing as well, and missing… the bullet passing harmlessly by the other assassins to hit…_

He staggered and would have fallen if not for a quick hand on the edge of his desk.  They had committed the one crime Takatori was not going to forgive.  

Ouka was dead.

**

Crawford watched, seemingly impassive as Takatori disciplined the two.  First the man had done it with words, and when that wasn't enough, had grabbed a golf club from his bag in the corner and proceeded to beat the two.

"Why?  Why did you kill Ouka?  Ouka was… Ouka was more precious than anything, she was my cherished jewel!  You damn fools?"  Beyond speech the man resumed hitting them.

The American caught the club, just before the blow that would have cracked open Schuldich's thick skull.  Farfarello was largely indifferent, he didn't really feel the strikes or broken bones anyways.  The telepath was groaning on the floor.  Nagi was simply trying to stay out of the way and no doubt hoping he wouldn't be included in the abuse.  Yes… now it had reached the stage of abuse and that was something Crawford would not tolerate.  "Mr. Takatori, you are resenting the wrong people."  Hopefully he could defuse this situation before one of them was forced to do something permanent to the man, something that Esset would no doubt disapprove of at this stage.

"What?"

He smirked, knowing that it would distract the man from where Schuldich was painfully trying to drag himself out of the violence zone.  "We did not kill your precious daughter."

"I don't want to hear any excuses."

And he shouldn't have to give any.  He really should have kept the redhead on a shorter leash.  He shook his head.  "Everything is the fault of Weiß.  If you must hate, then hate Weiß."

Takatori stopped trying to take the club back from Crawford.  "Weiß you say?"

"They are strong."  Nagi commented, watching out of his eye as the German slid a little farther away.

The man let go of the club fully and turned away from them, obviously enraged.  "WEIß!"  The man started to make phone calls, ignoring them completely.  Crawford waived them out of the office, closing the door behind them.

"Thanks, Brad…"

"Schuldich… if I didn't know that it would kill you right now I'd hit you myself.  I warned you…"

"It was an accident…"

"I know that… but it shouldn't have taken place.  What possessed you to use the girl as bait?  You knew what would happen."

"I didn't think…"

"Obviously.  I'm taking you three home, then returning to try to salvage this situation with Takatori."

"I can drive…"

"Not in your condition… besides… I'm taking the car away from you."  He smiled as he walked away, envisioning the look on the German's face.

"But… but…"

He waited for the elevator, listening to the redhead plead for his car in between moaning about his injuries.  Nagi managed to make it complete with his comment as the elevator doors opened.  "Schu… you've been grounded…"

**

TBC…

[1] Incidentally, while rewatching this episode I noticed something… why the heck is the driver's seat of Schu's car on THAT side?  Talk about a pricey import… he's driving on the correct side of the road for Japan… but his car is set up for driving on the other side… no real point to this… just something I noticed and it struck me as odd.


	51. Stupidity

**_Rosenkreuz… sweet Rosenkreuz_**

**Chapter 51: Stupidity**

AN: I heartily apologize to all my readers… ff.net (or as kiki is calling it useless.net) seems to be having trouble lately (yes, that is a VERY polite way of saying it).  In the future… if it is causing these, difficulties… feel free to go over to my lovely website… it generally is updated the same day and usually works better than ff.net seems to be.

'Grounded'… how… insulting.  And apparently the anal-retentive highness himself was actually going to enforce it!  He had already been homebound for three days.  The first night passed by in a blur from painkillers.  Crawford had ended up taking him to one of the Esset doctors in town, afraid of internal injuries.  Bren didn't ask him if he'd seen something.

The next day he stayed in bed and milked his injuries for all they were worth.  Braddy of course wasn't home but Nagi was good for fetching and carrying, and he felt sorry for Schu so he actually did it without complaining.  Farf was locked up.  Truthfully it really did hurt and he didn't make TOO many demands on the kid.  When Crawford got home he put a stop to it, saying Nagi had work to do.  The telepath pouted for a while but knew that was going to get him nowhere so he just went to bed.

But now it was the evening of the third day and the redhead was developing a severe case of cabin fever.  Bren had actually gotten dressed and had full intentions of going out.  There was a certain lanky blond that liked to frequent the same clubs he did…  He scowled at his reflection, bruises were NOT the most attractive of features, he should pick up some makeup.  But just as he was heading for the door…

"And where do you think you are going?"

"Out… you know… socializing, a little drinking, unwinding… oh I forgot… you never unwind…"

"I believe you were told, as Nagi so eloquently put it… that you were grounded."

He was smirking… the bastard was smirking, adjusted his glasses and continued to watch the news.  "You're NOT serious…"

"I'm not?  You screwed up, Schuldich!  I can't trust you or Farfarello out of my sight apparently.  So sit down unless you want a repeat of what put you into that condition."

Green eyes narrowed.  /You wouldn't…/

"Try me."  Brown eyes, hard and cold, glared at him; daring him to step out of line.  Bren eased himself down onto the couch.

"What the hell crawled up inside you and died?"

"This is not the time… the situation is too critical for you and your playing around."

"I didn't kill the girl."

"No… but you decided to use her, even after I warned you that she was not to be harmed."

"And why didn't YOU see her dying, O Great Oracle?!"

"I can't see everything, I would go insane.  And I was busy working with Takatori that night.  You need to stick around irregardless… at least for the next few days, it will be interesting, I promise."

"Crap… I hate being stuck at home…"  He stared numbly at the TV, aware that Nagi had wandered out of his room by the sound of voices.  The newscaster was just going to a live shot, looked like an explosion.  Bren was thankful yet again of the English news broadcast, it wasn't his first language, but he was better at it than Japanese.

_-The criminal group Weiß has yet again claimed responsibility for a new bombing incident.-_

/What the fuck?/

/Language./

/Nagi's not linked in right now, screw me./

/No thank you./

/Screw you too./  "What a pain in the butt."  /So THIS is the Koala's new master plan… smoke out Weiß by committing atrocities?  How… juvenile./

/I agree./

"Why won't you reveal the members of Weiß?"  Nagi's soft voice floated from where he stood in the middle of the room.  Bren peered back at him over his shoulder.  He noticed again that the boy didn't seem to be growing right.  Maybe once everything had calmed down they should get him in to the doctor again, even though Nagi hated to go.

"They are my prey.  They must suffer."  He winced a bit and brushed his fingers over one bruised cheek.  "And the Mister owes me too."

/Not yet… you'll get your chance./

He was about to retort when something flashed by him and buried itself in the TV screen.  They all turned to look at Farf.  /Why is he out?/

The Irishman chuckled.  "Weiß, this will be fun."

Brad sighed.  "Nagi…"

"I'll call about a new TV…"  The boy turned and disappeared back into his room.  The American suddenly stiffened and got that blank look that meant he was having a vision.  After a moment he frowned.

"What?"

"This isn't good.  Mr. Takatori has met with his brother.  Things are moving far too quickly… that swordsman of Weiß will attack his car tonight."  He stood, Bren pushed himself up as well.  Brad just gave him a smug look.

"You can't be serious… this is Schwarz business."

"And you are a liability with your injuries right now.  Farfarello, get ready, I'll inform Takatori that he must change his plans."

Bren dropped back down into the seat, wincing slightly as his ribs protested.  Well… fuck!

**

He knew the redhead didn't understand, but his actions had seriously compromised Schwarz's integrity and standing, not only with Takatori but with their superiors as well.  In turn, HIS position was compromised because of the actions of his subordinate.  He took great pains to insulate the rest of the team from the games played by most agents of their level, the currying of favor and backstabbing and yes, even kissing up when called for.  He also VERY reluctantly got medical attention for the redhead, not that he wanted him in unnecessary pain, but because he knew it would be reported.  Technically, field teams had autonomy as far as how they were internally run, but they all knew the truth.  If it appeared that Schuldich was becoming too much of a liability, he would be removed, one way or another.  Their position and duties were too sensitive for anything else.

Farfarello was less of a problem.  Most couldn't understand why Crawford had taken him in the first case, although he was a superb fighter.  The fact that HE was the one to have shot the girl, didn't seem to harm his standing in anyway.  Their superiors seemed to regard him more as a trained dog than anything else, incapable of thinking for himself and therefore not responsible for his actions.  Schuldich and by extension Crawford, was held responsible for Takatori's displeasure.  Thank goodness for small favors, Nagi seemed to have escaped their notice.  For now.

As per his warning, Takatori took another car when he left, grumbling the whole time.  He hadn't included Schwarz in his plans for framing Weiß, an indication of just how precarious their standing was with him at that time.  But he did listen when Crawford said he'd had a vision and informed Takatori that he would die if he rode in that particular car that night.  Instead, the American himself and the Irishman climbed into Takatori's limo and pulled out of the building…

"Get ready."  He looked up at the roof and slid to one side.  Farfarello smirked, his one eye gleaming.  Not a moment too soon… a couple feet of extremely sharp steel penetrated the ceiling.  It really wasn't a bad plan, who would suspect THAT after all.  Unfortunately for Abyssinian… being precognitive gave them a distinct advantage.

Having Farfarello along definitely tipped the scales in their favor as well.  That was until the intervention of their employer's brother and the redheaded female.  The Irishman wanted to pursue but Crawford halted him, fortunately the pale man obeyed.  They had done as they were supposed to do… run off the interloper… it wasn't THEIR job to pursue.  Framing Weiß was Takatori's pet project; he could use his private army for that.  Instead, they returned to the apartment.

Irishman had to be sedated; his bloodlust was up too much to leave him unmedicated.  After that was done and Nagi too was sent off to bed… Brad sat down to watch the late news.  Bren was still sulking on the couch.  The news was full of reports about what the 'special' troops were doing.  At first praising them for finally cracking down on the 'terrorists'… but then starting to note the growing infringements on citizens' rights.

Brad shook his head.  "How long will it take for them to realize this is martial law?"

"Depends on if they want to see it.  People are amazingly good and not noticing what they don't want to see.  I think the Japanese are worse than anyone else."

"You have been to America enough."  He responded dryly.  He shook his head as he turned off the TV.  "This is a mistake… Takatori has moved too swiftly and is alienating too many people."

Bren rose as well.  "Is he heading for a fall?"

The American nodded and headed for the bedroom.  "I think so.  Headquarters is not going to be happy with him.  He's creating too much attention at too critical a time."

"Do you think they will pull us off him?"

"I doubt it.  But we are not in a very stable position… that is why your little stunt is causing so much trouble."

"Stop throwing back in my face… Now do you want to company or am I supposed to wander off to my own bed like a good little boy?"

"You've never been good…"  Brad went into his room and it took Bren a moment to realize that the American hadn't answered his question… the door however WAS left open.

The redhead smirked… he was never one to waste an opportunity…

**

It wasn't looking any better by the next afternoon.  Bren had lazily stayed in bed until Brad finally kicked him out and yelled at him to get dressed.  Then they had gone down to the level where Takatori's office was.  The man hadn't called for them, but unless informed differently, Crawford insisted they be present and ready, trying to repair their strained relations.  They were currently still waiting for the man to tell them if he needed them or not.  Bren was watching out the window, the only vehicles going by belonged to the military or a few VERY brave members of the media.

Somehow, the American had foreseen his desire for some makeup to look presentable.  Or maybe it was simply so that they looked like the professionals they were… or to show to Takatori that what he had done didn't matter now.  Course, to Bren it DEFINITELY mattered and if he ever got the opportunity he was going to pay the man back… with exponential interest.

"It's like war."

Nagi and Crawford were sitting, the boy looking bored.  Farfarello was standing,  looking out the windows on the other side of the room.  The American looked up from the paper he was reading.  "This shows Mr. Takatori's conviction."

"But this is wrong.  We didn't come here to do a thing like this."  Nagi was a bit worried.  He was the one who dealt with a lot of the paperwork, he was probably privy to a lot of information that Bren wasn't.

"Well, why don't we wait and see how Mr. Takatori moves…"

The all looked up at the knock at the door.  Bren did a quick scan.  /Brad… it's Takatori and several others…/

/Stay calm and do nothing and it will be alright./

The door flew open and four of Takatori's private soldiers burst in, guns drawn.  Farfarello reacted instinctively and Crawford flung out a hand.  As Takatori himself entered, the American stood.  "What is this about?"

The telepath made sure they were all linked in case they needed to react swiftly.  Crawford took advantage of that… /Everyone keep your cool…/

/But Brad…/

/Hush… Nagi be ready in case they use those guns… but keep the energy level down, don't let them realize you're up to something, and stay down.  Schuldich make sure Farfarello doesn't react, Farfarello restrain yourself./

"I don't need your help anymore."

The redhead frowned.  "What do you mean?"  /Crawford I don't think this is good…/

"You are under the direct command of Esset.  You posed as bodyguards to keep tabs on me, didn't you?"

/Keep calm…/  "If you knew, then what is the problem?"

He loved it when Brad got all high handed with mundanes… so much fun to watch.

"Give me a break!  I don't need to be treated like a child."

/Then don't act like one…/

/Schuldich!/

"I've gained control over Japan, as headquarters wished.  I don't need babysitters anymore.  You stay here and just observe."

That was it… his hand started to reach for the gun in his coat.  "What?!"

Crawford stepped in front of him.  "That would be fine…"  /Schuldich, stand down!/

/But he's…/

/That's an order!/

"I'm glad you understand."  He turned and left, the guards following him out and shutting the door behind them.

Schu was seething.  Crawford was outwardly calm, but inside was quite angry as well.  Nagi was the only one who seemed calm as he released the energy he had gathered.  He snorted and summed up all their thoughts and feelings.  "Reiji no baka da."

**

TBC…

AN: I think that is Nagi's best line in the whole show.  Perfectly sums up everything I've ever though of the Koala.  And nicely provided the title for this chapter as well.  ^___^

Oh… and before I forget, and Kiki yells at me again ( ^_~ )… check out our WK/YnM crossover, Troubled Times.  You can find it over in the Yami no Matsuei section, under the author name, Kiki_neesan.


	52. Was that a joke?

**_Rosenkreuz… sweet Rosenkreuz_**

**Chapter 52: Was that a joke?**

The day crawled by… eventually they were moved up to their apartment; apparently Takatori didn't want them too close while he tried to solidify his take over.  Lunch was a tense affair.  They were under guard the entire time, when Nagi had gotten up to make sandwiches, they nearly shot him, they were so jumpy.  Crawford went over and spoke to them for a moment before returning to his chair and the paper he was pretending to read.  Nagi scuttled by the guards into the kitchen to make the meal which none of them really wanted but knew it was important to have as much energy as possible.

/they were going to shoot me… weren't they?/

Bren, leaning back, could just see Nagi, digging lettuce out of the vegetable drawer.  /I think so…/

The boy was quiet for a moment.  /I was scared./

/So was I… stay alert… remember everything you learned about 'snap' shielding… If it comes down to it… do that quick and dirty shielding you're not supposed to do, we'll deal with the migraine afterwards./  He was talking about a type of shielding that they were told NEVER to use.  Normally, Nagi would take the time to gather some energy, tapping into whatever was around him… it really wasn't something that could be explained.  The energy came from him… but at the same time it was boosted by what was nearby.  The so called 'snap' shielding used only one's own energy, so it was up in a 'snap'… but it wasn't nearly as effective.  That type of shield wasn't as strong and couldn't be maintained for long, it was debilitating at best.  But it was quick… and might be the only thing that could save your life when in point blank range.  If Nagi had to use one of those shields… he'd be out for days.

/What about you?/

/Don't worry about us… I've got my speed… his Highness will see it coming, unless I miss my guess, he's fully open right now… which is why he's trying to pretend to read the paper, so there is less to 'pick up'.  Farf scares them so much they wouldn't even get a fix on him.  So you just take care of yourself./

/I don't like this./

/No one does, chibi… now where's that food?/

**

He was beyond bored.  The guards were so damn twitchy he was afraid to even tap his foot.  Everyone in range was either mentally a dud… or so nervous that to be in contact with them was nauseating.  The people outside… were scared… they didn't understand what was happening as their civil rights were systematically stripped away.  This really wasn't good.  Esset had wanted Takatori to take over Japan, so that he could smooth the way for their other plans.  This was going WAY overboard… it was going to inspire resistance once the immediate fear wore off.  And eventually there would be a coup.  Schwarz was trapped right in the middle.

/Sooo… oh master of our lives… what are we going to do?/

/For now… nothing./

/Nothing?/  Well… at least he got a reaction… Crawford's eyebrow twitched.

/Nothing… link the others in, we need to have a meeting./

/You mean… we lowly lackeys get to have a say?/

/Schuldich…/

/All right… everyone's here… what's up, O Fearless Leader./

They were all looking at Crawford.  /Our employer has greatly overreached… we are cutting him loose./

/Waaaaaait… let me get this straight.  We're cutting the Koala loose… won't the higher ups be upset… I mean, it's not as if you asked what they wanted us to do…/

/Regardless… he has become a liability…/

/Good./  Nagi's mental voice sounded pleased, he had never liked the man since they'd started working for him.  Farf didn't comment.

/So are we going to have to do away with him?/  Schu smirked.  At this Farf actually appeared interested and pleased… then again, anything that would end in bloodshed generally pleased him.

/No need… he will be dead by morning./  The man's eyes unfocused his mind getting an odd… static for lack of a better word, that meant he was having a vision.  "They're coming."

/They?/  The redhead stood with the others.

/The kittens./

Their current guards reacted predictably, after so many hours of silence, their sudden speech and movement upset them.  "Calm down… we don't even have weapons…"

/Nagi… the lights… Farfarello the guards are yours./  Crawford sounded rather smug… he loved it when his waiting paid off.  The boy closed his eyes, summoning up some power… they opened and the lights went off.  

"What did you do?"  The man sounded panicked.  Bren sensed rather than saw the Irishman move.

The results were rather predictable.

**

Alarms were going off all over the building.  He had sent Schuldich and Farfarello out on a quick recon trip around the floor.  They were to eliminate anyone they found and return.  Nagi was packing up the essential parts of his computer… namely the drives, the information was too vital to lose and the system too bulky to take with them.  Once they moved, they would have to be quick… they had to relocate by dawn, by that time the building would be swarming with investigators, the fire should eliminate the evidence, but it wouldn't do to be careless at this point.  They would be in enough trouble as it was.

He doubted those higher in the chain of command would be THAT upset with the loss of Takatori Reiji… it was more that THEY hadn't ordered it.  He was going to be stepping on a lot of toes and going over who knew how many heads… but his team came first.  If they had stayed and defended Takatori… the results wouldn't have been pleasant.

That vision had come to him at some point during the afternoon, when he was trying to decide how they should proceed.  If they fought for the faltering politician… Farfarello would be caught by an explosion, the force of which would throw him through one of the windows on the 23rd floor, he would die upon impact with the street.  Nagi would get caught in a crossfire he wasn't even involved in, a case of the wrong place at the wrong time.  He would survive… but lose use of his legs.  Esset had a tendency to 'cull' such unfortunate operatives.  Bren… Bren would survive… not even get a scratch… but the loss of Farfarello and ultimately of Nagi would break what tenuous hold he had on stability.  He would become what Esset always wanted him to be.  Schuldich, heartless, cold, a murderer.  As for himself… 

So there really wasn't any other way he could go.  Takatori would be sacrificed, thank goodness, so Schwarz could survive… It really wasn't a bad trade off actually.

Weiß was making their way up the building… soon they would find Takatori's office… and the dying body of Shuuichi.  Reiji would be on his way up to their level by then… in fact… very soon.  /Schuldich… Farfarello… come back, it's nearly time./

/Will do… time for what?/

/You will enjoy it… time for us to walk out./

/Oooh… really?!  I can't wait… can we video tape it?/

/I'm afraid the lighting won't be sufficient.  But you can be as sarcastic as you want./

/Oh goody… I'll be right there, come on Farfie… time to quit!/

They assembled in the dark apartment.  Nagi had placed their bags in the stairwell they intended to use to escape and was waiting when the others returned.  They could have just slipped out… but Crawford figured Bren needed to dig into the man a little… they did owe him for the golf club incident after all.  The redhead alerted them to Takatori's approach.

/Heads up all… the loser just hit the floor./

/Places… everyone… remember we just walk out… let Weiß have their fun./

The door opened and blinking in the darkness stood Reiji.  With the light behind him… all he could really see for a moment was their eyes, and the reflection off Crawford's glasses.  /You know, Brad… you should register those glasses as lethal weapons…/

/Hush…/

"I have a job for you."

/Is he fucking serious?/

/Schuldich!/

At that moment the man noticed the rather torn bodies of their former guards… "What the?"

"What's the matter, Mr. Takatori?"

/You mean besides the fact his empire is crumbling around him?/

He decided it was hopeless to chastise the redhead for the comments… besides, they were entertaining.

"Weiß is here, they're trying to kill me.  Do something!"

/Awwwweeee… he's asking for it… can't I shoot him?!/

/No, Schuldich./  "I'm sorry, Mr. Takatori; but we no longer have a reason to protect you."

/Oh… that was fucking perfect./

/Language./

/Like he hasn't heard it before, ne, Nagi?/

"Why is that?  Weren't you sent by headquarters to protect me?"

/MY turn!/ "Oh, aren't you fickle.  You're the one who called us spies."

"I gained control over Japan!  I have more than met headquarters'  expectations!"

Nagi shook his head.  "You and us… we're too different."

/Good one, brat… I knew you had it in you./

"What's too different?"

/The fact we have brains?/

/Enough… it's time to move./  "We are not seeking a king."

"What do you mean?  What do you want?"

"The end of humanity."  They moved around the man into the hall and towards their chosen escape route.

"The end of humanity?... What's that?"  They heard Reiji mumble before they were out of earshot.

/Farf… wasn't that a LITTLE over the edge?  I mean… the 'end of humanity'?/

"What?  He asked… I answered."

Bren sighed and picked up his bag.  "It sounded like a line from a crappy B-flick.  How horribly overdramatic…"

"Critique it later… we need to move."

"Ja… lead on Fearless Leader."

"That is part of the job description, isn't it?"  He headed down the stairs and smirked at the sound of Bren falling against the wall in his own fit of melodrama.

"Did he just make a joke?"  The telepath asked Nagi.

"Hard to tell… let's go…"  The boy was following, Farf was already ranging ahead to eliminate any obstacles.

"I think that was a joke… and me without anything to document this miracle."

"Shut up and move it… we're not waiting."

"Yeah yeah… I'm movin'…"

By dawn all the newspapers were reporting the sudden demise of one Takatori Reiji…

**

TBC…

Wow… I didn't think I'd get anything done this weekend.  But I just started writing after eating dinner and this all came out in one session… minor miracle right there.  Can't say I'm sorry to watch the Koala bite it… he was a jerk from day one… Omi's better off not having been spawned by him.  Even though he like never learns that fact… well, he might in the drama cds… but I don't own them and prefer to ignore their very existence.  I'm sorry… Ken is NOT like that.


	53. THEM

**_Rosenkreuz… sweet Rosenkreuz_**

**Chapter 53: THEM**

To say that Esset wasn't pleased with them… was an understatement.  Before the smoke even cleared over the ruin of Takatori's short reign… they were recalled, ordered to make their report in person.  The flight was tense.  Crawford was his usual imperturbable self, but the set of his shoulders was a little too tight… even for 'Mr. Anal Retentive'.  Farf was sedated, he had been on edge since their escape and they couldn't risk him getting violent in a confined space.  Their youngest teammate was uncomfortable.  As they were getting out of the building, they had encountered a few guards who hadn't heard about the koala's death and attacked.  

Nagi had gotten a shield up in time to keep them from getting shot full of holes… but it had taken his concentration away from his feet.  He'd tripped and taken a tumble down about a dozen steps.  For the most part his injuries were only bruises, but he had managed to twist the right ankle and knee fairly good.  The kid was taped up and had his leg elevated and iced…  But the changes in altitude were enough to have him almost crying in pain and Brad FINALLY took pity on the kid and gave him something.  Now Nagi dozed and Bren got up to change the icepacks on his knee and ankle.

"Don't wake him up."

"I won't.  What should we expect?  I mean, it's not really OUR fault Takatori died."

"They will try to make it our fault though."

Bren scowled and dropped into the seat beside Brad, leaving the other two to sleep while they could.  "Why?  It's not as if they LIKED Takatori.  No one liked the creep… he had an arranged marriage for his first wife and blackmailed the second."

"Schuldich…"

"Are we on duty?"

"Not technically."

"Is there anyone else in hearing distance?"

"No, the plane staff are eating in the back."

"Then do you think you could use my name, BRAD…"

Crawford looked like he was going to protest… then relented.  "Bren… I'm sorry… you are right."

"I'm right?!  That's the second time you've admitted I'm right… where's my date book… I have to mark this…"

"Very funny, can you be serious for a little while?"

"You're starting to scare me here… how much trouble are we in?"

"I'm not really sure."

"Okay, that really scares me…"

"It should.  I do see us getting out of it… more or less in one piece."

"It's the 'more or less' part that worries me."

"We're going to be called before THEM."

"THEM?  Oh shit… you're not talking about who I think you're talking about, are you?  Brad?  Fuck!"

"Language."

"He's asleep."

"I don't care… you've been slipping too much when he's awake."

/Fuck Brad… we're screwed…/

/Not necessarily…/

/You've got an idea?/

/I have a plan…/

/Are you going to enlighten me?/

/That would ruin the plan…/

/That's what I was afraid of./

**

THEM.

Even in mental speech they seemed to require capital letters.  The ones EVERYONE else bowed down or kissed-up to, depending on your level of pride and self-preservation.  The absolute top of the heap… Three geriatric psis that once they'd tasted 'true' power… had never gone back.  No one really knew how old they were anymore… they seemed to have always been there… always been at the top… always been in control.  That wasn't true of course, at least Bren hoped it wasn't too, but the point was that they had been around for a long… LONG time.  Far longer than they should have.  They were the embodiment of absolute power… and the corruption that came with it.

And they also apparently wanted to meet with them.

That couldn't be good.  Bren ran through his mind all the little things Takatori could have complained about.  None of it seemed serious enough to warrant even a high-level investigation let alone an audience with the top.  But here they were… landing in Austria… meeting with some high-level flunky that was going to escort them to their destination.

Joy.

Bren took one look at the rather mousy man who came to meet them and almost laughed.  Here was a professional boot-licker if ever he'd seen one.  He was the type no one crossed in Rosenhell after the second year, cause they already had the teachers in their pockets.  They were the weasels and rats that showed up in any organization… but like everyone else, they had their place.  Apparently this one's was driving people to and from the old farts' estate.

He really wished Schwarz was a more imposing sight.  But at the moment… Farf was stumbling around half-asleep and Nagi was all gimpy… not exactly awe inspiring… But Schu would do his best.  He smirked, looking over the toady with a calculating eye... it was enough that the man forwent the comment he was about to make, which wasn't flattering, and simply gestured to the car.  "If you please, others will get your luggage."

Crawford simply nodded and steered Farfarello toward the car.  Schu, who was lending an arm and support to Nagi, smirked at the man.  "Home, Jeeves."  The flunky stiffened, but didn't say anything.  The redhead was laughing mentally.  He checked… yup… sure enough, the kid found it funny too.  Good… Nagi had been way too serious lately.  Ever since running into that damn bunny girl…

The ride was boring… Crawford was just staring out the window, looking superior.  Farf was zoning again, Nagi was hurting and getting cranky about it… and the toady wasn't playing at all.  He was amazingly good at ignoring Schu's comments though.  Finally the redhead just gave up… he could use a nap…

**

He noted absently when Bren fell asleep.  He wished he had that luxury.  But Brad was running potentials through his head, not so much using his gift, which was very difficult when dealing with the heads of Esset, but trying to anticipate different scenarios.  If he planned what he would do if they did something, he wouldn't be surprised and maybe they could get out of this without incurring too much in the way of damage.  He knew better than to expect they would emerge unscathed, but the bloodshed (figuratively) might be kept to a minimum.

Brad was fairly sure that they only summoned Nagi and Farfarello out of curiosity.  They wanted to see WHY he picked them, someone who was a 'child' and one who was insane.  It was himself and possibly Schuldich that were truly in trouble, though he didn't put it past the elders to use the other two to punish them.   That was one reason why he was doing little to ease the boy's suffering.  It wouldn't spark ANY sympathy from the elders, but he hoped they would be reluctant to cause any permanent injury.  He looked frail and delicate already, maybe they would think he would break if they toyed with him.  Farfarello was out of it, because they didn't need him 'snapping' should the elders push him.  He had to hope that Schuldich could take care of himself… there was only so much Brad could do.

Not to mention, he had his own skin to save…

**

"Well… this is cozy…" Bren stood in the center of a small suite… quite small.  A common room, bathroom, and two bedrooms, each with two beds.  "Brad… call the desk, I think the porter took us to the wrong suite."

"Schuldich…"

"At least they let us have the night to rest."  Nagi comments, sinking onto the couch with a grimace.  The redhead frowned then walked over and picked up the injured leg propping it up on the couch.

"Keep it elevated, we'll get some ice."

"Yes, mommy."

The American reappeared from one of the bedrooms.  "Farfarello is restrained, but the room is not really equipped to contain him should he get loose."

"Lovely, who gets to stay with him?"

"No one, if he gets violent I'd rather he hurt himself before killing one of us."

"Hmmm… good point…"  /Brad… what's going on?  I mean… what are they trying to tell us with this room?  It's not exactly the Hilton./

/What do YOU think they are saying?/

/Not to get above ourselves?/

/Most likely.  I assume this is a private chat?/

/As private as I can make it./

/Should be good enough.  They are so used to the fear and awe they generate that they probably wouldn't think we would be any different./

/Are we different?/

/We have to be…/

/Ducky./

"I'll see about ice… and dinner, the three of us will sleep in the other room."

"Oooooh… who gets to share a bed?"  He winked suggestively… but Brad was already on his way out the door.  "You're no fun…"

"So you've told me…"  The door closed.

**

It was a much shakier Schuldich who returned to the rooms the next afternoon.  He and Crawford had been summoned by the elders late in the morning., no mention of Nagi or Farfarello.  Not knowing what to expect, the redhead had followed their 'guide' to a tastefully elegant receiving room…

He fervently hoped he wouldn't have to go through anything like that again soon.  One of the elders was a telekinetic… one was telepathic… he never figured out what the third was, maybe clairvoyant or precognitive… he also bet they all had secondary powers as well… maybe more.  They were also evil.  He regarded very few people as being truly evil… but they were.  He understood why Brad said they generated fear and awe.  Schu wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed and hide till they were allowed to leave.

He had taken the precaution of burying everything of value deep within his mind… everything he didn't want anyone else (besides his teammates) to know, everything that he cared about, his feelings for Brad… and for Nagi… and even the odd amusement/affection he had for Farfarello.  He buried it all… he buried Bren.  Now he thanked whatever deities might exist that he had done so.

He had felt the old coot… sliding though his mind… insidiously worming his way in deeper than anyone since Schultz all those years ago.

Meanwhile the other two were focusing on Crawford, but Schu hadn't been able to spare any attention to what they were doing.  He was trying to keep hold of himself.

Finally after a few hours of answering questions, again and again… he'd been allowed to leave… he couldn't get out of there fast enough.  He did feel sorry for Crawford, who was still in there… but he was so close to the edge…  Schu needed to get away from them.  He needed time to center again… or he was in serious danger of losing control…

And then he was back and hearing Nagi's worried voice, seeing the boy's concerned eyes… then the single amber gleam from Farfarello… then he was laying on a bed and voices went on and on… but he couldn't tell if they were inside or outside his head… then water and a single bitter pill… and nothing more.

**

TBC…

Hehehe… I'm evil… leaving it there… I know… I can't promise that I will get another part out before going offline on the 18th.  I will be spending the next week and a half in Kyoto and Tokyo before returning to the US.  I'm not sure how long I will be without internet access.  I shall endeavor to solve this problem as quickly as possible.  Thank you for your patience.

*message to Oni-Baka*  This is why I get cranky when people don't put their email… when they ask questions… I will answer them… leave an addy… anyways, Bren is a name I found on a baby name website… it was in the German category and means flame… red hair… get it?  ^_~  Plus I like the way it sounded… so Bren it is!  ^___^


	54. Control and Strength

**_Rosenkreuz… sweet Rosenkreuz_**

**Chapter 54: Control and Strength**

Years of control… years of practice maintaining his control… slowly being eroded… slowly chipping, heading for total collapse.

Then it shattered…

**

He was fuzzily aware of when Brad was laid on the bed beside him.  But he was unable to do much other than acknowledge another warm body next to him.  The drugs Nagi had given him where quite powerful and his talents were essentially shut down.  But Brad was back… and he slid a little closer to the American.

"Go back to sleep, Schu…"

"o..kay… Nagi…"

Warm blankets were tucked around them both…

**

When Schu woke again… his powers were still silent… but he was able to think again.  He was cuddled up to Brad… something the other man wouldn't have tolerated under normal circumstances… but circumstances were far from normal.  He looked closely at the American.  The dark-haired man was pale, faint bruises of fatigue still under his eyes, he looked old.  Brad was breathing steadily though, and when Schu checked, his pulse was strong.  Whatever happened after the redhead left, it hadn't damaged the American visibly.

Carefully tucking the blanket around Brad's shoulders, the German pushed himself up into a sitting position.  His head spun though and he quickly sat back against the headboard.  Once the room settled, he took a look around.  The curtains were pulled tightly shut, but a thin sliver of light struggled through.  So it was day… what day he had no idea however.

The room was quiet… In fact, all he could hear was his and Brad's breathing…  The other bed was made, neat as always if Nagi wasn't actually in it… Nagi… Looking around he could find no sign of the boy.  Where could he be?  A dark feeling wormed its way through him.  What if those sadists had called for the boy, or Farfarello?  He had to know.

Carefully, as if moving slowly would prevent the inevitable vertigo, the redhead swung his legs over the edge of the bed.  He slid, until his bare feet hit the floor.  Pushing himself up, Schu stood, and then clutched the end of the headboard for support.  Gritting his teeth, he staggered toward the closed door.

It felt as though it took hours to cross the short distance to the door… but finally he could lean against the wall.  He paused for a moment… then tried to get his hand to work the knob.  Such a small thing… and yet it took a couple tries before he could manage to get the knob to turn and release the latch.  The door swung inward quietly.

He smirked self-depreciatingly… what a wonderful accomplishment… he got the door open.  Bravo!

Leaning against the door jam, he maneuvered himself into the main room.  The outer room too was quiet… too quiet.  The door to the other bedroom stood open, neither Farfarello nor Nagi was in sight.  Of course, there were any number of reasons why they wouldn't be there.  They could be eating or maybe Nagi was letting the Irishman get a little exercise.

Suddenly his strength gave out and Schu slid down to sit on the floor.  There was nothing to do… but wait.

**

Breathing was the first thing he noticed.  Air moving in and out… past lips that were dry, over a tongue and throat that felt parched, into lungs that expanded… then contracted.  The rhythm was steady… unhurried.

For just a moment, he held that breath… then let it return to its previous steady pace.

Control… he had regained control.  That knowledge helped him to re-center himself, re-establish his identity and goals.  He let himself slip into a slightly meditative state.  He was Bradley Crawford.  He was in control of his body and mind again.  HE had the control.  Now that he was grounded, Brad turned his senses out… away from himself.

He was in a bed, warm covers tucked to his chin.  His tie had been removed, and his shoes, but he was still dressed.  Therefore Schuldich hadn't had a hand in getting him into bed.  The only sounds he could hear were his own breathing and the faint rustle of the bedclothes.  Opening his eyes… he found it was quite dark.  Enough light came from the open door that he could see around the room a bit, though everything was gray.  The other side of the bed was empty.

He knew Schuldich had made it back okay, he'd seen that much before his gift had shut down.  Past that… there was a blank spot in his memories.  He shuddered away from that black hole, eventually he might be ready to reach in there, but for now, he didn't want to know.

Asserting some of that won-back control, he rolled onto his side, facing the door.  There was something sitting in the doorway.  The light wasn't enough to see who it was, only the form.  Deciding that dignity was pointless right then, he rolled over a few more times, till he reached the side of the bed.  It was a rather ungainly roll/flop, but he ended up on the floor.  The person in the doorway didn't even stir.

Somewhat alarmed now, Brad crawled across the floor, dignity be damned.

It took only a touch for Schuldich to wake, head turning to look at Brad.  "you're awake?"

"Yes… why are you sitting here?"

"I wanted to be sure I knew when Nagi and Farf got back."

A chill struck him.  "They were summoned?"

"I don't know…"

He had done all he could, for years, to keep Nagi especially away from them…  He slumped against the other side of the door frame.  His powers were still inoperative; he was as blind as any mundane.  He sighed.  Like Schuldich, there was nothing that he could do… but wait.

**

It was morning before Farfarello returned.  The Irishman was heavily restrained and seemed even more out of it than usual.  The armed guards who had brought him back practically dumped him inside the door before beating a hasty retreat.  It had taken both of them to get the pale man to take some medication, fortunately that seemed to do the trick and Farf settled down after that.  He was still a virtual basket case and all they could do was strap him down to his bed and hope he came out of it on his own.  The redhead was still too close to the edge himself to go in and fish the Irishman out.

Neither one of them had felt much like breakfast, not knowing where their fourth was, but they forced themselves to eat none-the-less.  Waiting was something Schu did very poorly and he wasn't at all happy to be doing it now.  He wondered how Brad could just sit there… reading the paper someone had FINALLY brought for him.  He wanted to tear through the place (literally if necessary), find Nagi, and get the hell out of there… or tear his hair out in frustration.  Since he couldn't bust down the building (that was the missing boy's forte) and he really liked his hair where it was… the redhead was forced to pace restlessly around the place till his still weak body forced him to sit.

"How long…"

"The answer is the same as it was the last time you asked… 2 minutes ago.  There is no way to tell… they could simply be testing him… one of them IS a tk himself, maybe he is training the boy."

"Or maybe those sadistic fucks are ripping him to pieces…"

"They wouldn't…"

"They just about did with us!"

"Nagi is too important…"

"Yeah, well I thought we all were…"  Brad didn't bother to reply to that one.

**

Schuldich was too restless… too upset… THEY were going to pick up on it.  It would do none of them any good if the Elders knew what Nagi meant to them.  So he forced himself to be calm, to be rational.  There was nothing they could do, they HAD to be strong.  The Elders had seen them at their lowest the day before; they had to prove they could bounce back from that.  Anyone could be broken… it was how you came back that mattered and showed true strength.

They were strong… they were Schwarz… all of them… even Nagi.

Hearing the faint click of the latch, they looked up to watch the door swing open.  Their missing teammate limped in and shut the door quietly behind him.  They were practically holding their breaths as he calmly took off his shoes.  Finally Schuldich couldn't take it anymore.

"NAGI!!!  Are you okay?  What did they do?  Did they hurt you?"

The boy seemed overwhelmed a bit by the telepath.  "I… I'm fine.  They didn't hurt me."

The redhead proceeded to fuss over the boy though, making him sit down and checking the wraps on his ankle before heading out to demand some ice…

Crawford stood and simply laid a hand on Nagi's shoulder.  "Should you need to talk about it sometime…"  The boy looked up and nodded, understanding what he was saying without him really having to say it.

"Thanks, Brad."

"Get rest… they will likely send us back tomorrow."  The boy nodded again and the American headed for the bathroom.

They were Schwarz… and if things went as planned… they would eventually also be free.

**

TBC…

Yeah I know it's kinda short… but it's been hard to get back into writing.  I swear my muse jumped out of the plane somewhere over Alaska…  Not to mention I've been trying to get a job, had an interview today in fact, so I've been a little busy… I just hope now that I've gotten through this, that my newly returned muse will cooperate.  ^_^


	55. Returning to what passes for normalcy…

**_Rosenkreuz… sweet Rosenkreuz_**

**Chapter 55: Returning to what passes for normalcy…**

Bren wasn't unhappy to see the picturesque mountain valley disappear behind them.  The village, nestled amidst the mountains, goats running through the pastures… the lovely estate on the hill… it was one of the layers of Hell he was certain.  The whole thing, from the village and its inhabitants right down to the young shepherds that tended the goats, it was all a carefully constructed façade, designed to hide the true nature of those who dwelt on the hill.  Damn demonic fossils…

He was still very shaky, off-balance, and hesitant to even THINK about his powers, let alone use them.  He could tell Brad felt much the same way.  It was as if their minds were raw inside, abused… like someone had reached in and ripped them up.  Aspirin couldn't put a dent in their headaches.  Farfarello was just as unstable, moods swinging wildly.  Bren swore mentally.  It had taken years to get him as stable as they had… all of that was shot to hell now.

And Nagi… fragile, delicate Nagi… who wouldn't even TALK about what they had done to him.  Bren didn't buy the boy's story.  THEY wouldn't have let the kid escape without doing something.  At the very least that blasted telepathic demon had probably mind-raped him.  But the boy kept going on as if nothing was wrong.  Nagi was a tough kid… but NO ONE was that tough.  He could only hope he could get the telekinetic to open up, before he blew.  Then again he hadn't gotten too far the last time something happened.  Bren sighed and stared out the window at the passing countryside.  Very pretty… he hoped he would never see it again.

They weren't in high favor… but they weren't exactly in disfavor either.  Whatever Brad had said or promised… he'd saved their asses from getting fried.  They were going to be watched… there was no way around that.  But they hadn't been reassigned… or killed.  Someone else was being put in charge though… they didn't know who, well Brad might, but the fossils had put someone in command of the Japanese division.  Someone that Schwarz would undoubtedly have to report to.  He hated having to report to someone.  They usually wanted things like 'good behavior' or 'appropriate clothing'.  GAAH… it was enough to make him explode.

It was going to take a while to get to the nearest airport; they weren't in high enough favor to have use of one of the helicopters.  Since no one was really in a talkative mood… he might as well get some sleep.  Maybe that would help the migraine from hell.

**

It was Mukhtar who met them at Narita Airport.  Somehow, he wasn't surprised in the least, in spite of the fact that his precognitive abilities were still on the mend.  As the redhead so eloquently put it… it felt some someone had reached in and stirred up their brains.  They were both taking the strongest analgesics they could find without sedatives or other adverse effects.  And still the littlest things were beyond irritating.

In any case, he wasn't surprised to see the Egyptian psychic waiting for them as they stepped out of Esset private plane.  He had known the man was highly involved with what was going on out at the museum, and so it made sense he would be their new superior.

Something inside of him chaffed at the restriction.  He had managed to move Schwarz up to the top of the heap in the highly competitive field team division, and to have to answer to anybody besides the high command irritated him.  Especially when it was more along the lines of having a babysitter.  However… he buried all of that deep and greeted Mukhtar with a polite bow.  "It has been a while, sir."

The Egyptian smiled wryly.  "Indeed it has.  Unfortunate circumstances, these?"

"Yes."

"If you will come with me… I have a car waiting to take you to your new residence."

"Shit… did we lose our penthouse?"  Schuldich murmured as they followed Mukhtar out.

"Hush… we're lucky we didn't lose our heads."  He reached out, without looking, and grabbed Farfarello before the Irishman could wander off.  "Watch him… we can't have any problems right now."

"Ja, Herr Crawford.  As long as you keep tabs on the chibi… he's limping more.  I told you he should have kept those crutches."

"Stop mothering him…"

"Someone has to…"  He muttered before steering Farfarello toward the waiting car.

Brad sighed.  'Mothering' was NOT something he was good at… nor was it what he intended to do.  The situation was only going to get more stressful, they didn't have time to coddle the boy.  They didn't have time to coddle any of them.

**

"I wish to lodge a complaint against the management for our latest orders…"

"Complaint noted."

"But nothing's going to change, is it?"  The look Crawford gave him was enough to answer his question.  "This is a little much… even for us."

"Do YOU want to tell Mukhtar that?"

"No!  What do you think I am, suicidal?"

"sometimes I wonder…"

"I heard that."

"Get to work."  The American stalked out of the room, leaving Bren fuming.  It was really unnecessary.  Burning kids alive?!

He sent another round of messages out, to gather the 'key' players for another video conference.  Normally he would have Nagi do this, but the kid was working on something for Crawford.  Something HE wasn't privy to.  He was going to have to pin Bradley-boy down for another heart-to-heart talk about teamwork and the concept of shared knowledge.  His email service chimed… the first replies were coming in.  He really hated this job.  There were so many better ways to stir up social unrest than immolation.  Thank goodness his Japanese was good enough by now that they couldn't tell they were talking to a gaijin… that would cause no end of trouble.

Speaking of 'no ends of trouble'… Farfarello was stirring again.  He really didn't know what the fuck those assholes had done to him, but the guy was loonier than ever.  He was really unstable, and a danger to them all at times.  It had gotten to the point where they had been forced to have Nagi hold Farf with his powers while they got the Irishman into restraints.  It was so bad they really couldn't take him anywhere loose and they had to constantly watch to make sure he didn't slip out.  The guy was definitely related to Houdini.

Mukhtar seemed more amused by this than annoyed.  He had given the Irishman a couple of spies they'd caught to 'play' with… the results hadn't been very pretty.  For being essentially unTalented… the pale man had amazing fighting skills.  And an understanding of the human body that was downright terrifying.  The Egyptian appeared to enjoy observing the man's madness.  It was not encouraging.

Having nothing else to do until the meeting that night… Bren left the workroom in search of some kind of amusement.  If nothing else… Nagi was always fun to annoy…

**

"It doesn't matter what the goal is, the process is more important."  The American turned and left, no doubt to inform Mukhtar of the advance in plans.

"It's sick is what it is…"  Bren grumbled, before giving up the chair to Nagi who was hovering, waiting to go back to work on whatever it was he was involved with.  He noted that the boy was only barely taller when the redhead was sitting.  "Naaaagi… have you been taking your vitamins?"

"I forgot."  The kid's hands flew over the keyboard… Bren couldn't make heads or tails of what the kid was doing.

"How do you think you will grow?  You don't eat right, you don't sleep enough, you don't take your vitamins..."  He smirked, not having to see Nagi's face to know he'd received the 'eye roll'.

"Yes, mommy… don't you think you should catch Farf before he ends up killing more of the staff again?"

"Shit!"

**

Two weeks… only two weeks after Weiß had ruined the torching plan (not that any of Schwarz was disappointed); Farf was dragging them right into a confrontation with the damn do-gooders again!  Damn that Irishman and his insanity!

The German sighed… it really wasn't Farf's fault.  He'd been a mess since they'd gotten back, then this woman appears and gets him all worked up.  It didn't help at all that Mukhtar was quietly encouraging the Irishman.  That sick fuck was taking a sadistic pleasure in watching him gut priests.  Bren was sure it was the Egyptian that gave Farf the acid. SOMEONE had let the pale man out of the house… and it wasn't any of them.  It was always possible that the escape artist had gotten out himself, but more likely that he had some help.

Brad was being tightlipped again as to what he was seeing… He'd simply come into the living room, turned off the TV program the redhead was watching and said they had to pick up Farf…  and that Weiß would be involved.  Happy joy, at least he was letting Bren drive.

"Drop me off at the front gate.  Then you go around and come in from the back… the wall will break… get Farfarello then come pick me up."  Brad checked his gun, and then tucked it back into his holster.

"Ja… do we get to kill any kittens this time."

"No… and don't try… we need them."

"What the..."

"Don't finish that… We need Weiß alive.  It's important."

"Saaa… it's always important.  Here you go… I'll go collect the Farfster and be right back…"

"Take your time… I haven't had a good workout in a while…"

"I'll give you a good work out when we get home…"  He drove off before the man could do or say anything… chalking a point for himself.  Now to get Farf… and hopefully the man would come willingly… it was so tedious when he decided to be difficult…

**

TBC…

AN: That's the good thing about writing from Brad and Schu's POV… I can gloss right over Farf and the whole Ruth episode.  I mean, yeah, Farf is an interesting character… but more background on the others would have been nice too.  I mean… ONE shot of Nagi as a kid… geesh…


	56. Music Anyone?

**_Rosenkreuz… sweet Rosenkreuz_**

**Chapter 56: Music Anyone?**

"His experiments are starting to have some positive results."  Nagi reported, calling up the appropriate files for Crawford to look at.  "Both in controlled trials and out in the general community."

Schuldich snorted.  "Amateur."

The American straightened from where he'd been peering over the boy's shoulder.  "Write up a report for the research division, they will want to know how things are going."  Brad looked over at the redhead, perched on the edge of the table, looking at the computer screen with scorn.  "True… mind control of this type is nothing compared to what a trained telepath can do… however Kawaji is showing some progress."

"Yeah… if you want a bunch of kids to jump off the roof of the school.  This is as absurd as that whole fire cult thing."

"Indeed… I have to go pay a visit to our 'musician'.  Pack up the laptop and some supplies, Prodigy… you're coming with me."

**

It was quite convenient that the man was working out of the place where his debut 'concert' was going to be.  Crawford waved Nagi into a small, forgotten room, and left the boy to get set up.  The telekinetic warned him to be careful, and made some comment about earplugs.  Actually wearing them wouldn't be practical, it would be impossible to converse after all; the telekinetic did have a point however.  Crawford paused to check the situation.  _Kawaji would be working… they would converse and the American would leave.  No danger.  He descended the steps to the basement sound lab where the man preferred to work… Bren had commented that he had delusions of being the Phantom of the Opera.  It was an amusing observation._

"Kawaji-san.  The results of your songs were phenomenal.  Many people lost their minds."  If they'd had them to begin with… couldn't tell with kids these days…

"That song is still incomplete.  It didn't even meet half my expectations."  Kawaji continued to make notations using whatever music writing program he utilized.  Brad frowned slightly, narrowing his eyes; he preferred people at least look at him when conversing… show a LITTLE respect.  "I will enrapture everyone with my next song."

Ah yes… bigger and better… symptom of all megalomaniacs.  Fortunately he had practice dealing with the type.  "You're such a perfectionist, Kawaji-san.  The experiment will be successful, I'm sure."

"This isn't an experiment, IT'S SOUND ART!"

Touchy too… artists… He adjusted his glasses.  "Excuse me…"  He turned with a bit of a smirk.  Touchy… but manageable.  Especially with the right supervision.  Crawford knocked before entering the room Prodigy would be using.  "Will this be satisfactory?"

"Yes, sir."  Nagi was already settled in and hooking his laptop into the building's security system.  They'd brought basic provisions and meals would be delivered to him, a cot had already been left.  Esset was VERY interested in protecting Kawaji's research.

"Don't take any chances… but we need to monitor him closely.  He's a little unstable for my liking."  Nagi snorted, Brad ignored the sound, Bren was really a bad influence on him.  "What a punk!  But he is useful…"

"And that's why we are here?"

"That… and Esset has bankrolled most of the man's research.  They would like to find a way to control mundanes without having to rely so heavily on the telepaths, who can then be used more effectively elsewhere."

"Why is Scherient here?"  Nagi asked, pointing to one of the security feeds.

"Kawaji hired them personally.  He ran in the same circles as Masafumi."

"Figures."

"You are NOT to see that girl!  You are here to work."

"Yes, Brad."

The American shook his head and left the boy.  He would rather have someone else in this position, but Nagi really was the best choice.  There were other jobs that needed Schwarz's attention, and he couldn't spare Schuldich to baby-sit Kawaji.

**

Bren was a little put-out at their leader… okay 'put-out' was mild, but he was trying to watch his language.  Otherwise… Braddy-boy would put HIM out and sleeping on the couch was punishment enough.  Leaving Nagi with that psycho?  What was he thinking?

"Enough."

"Why did you just leave him there?  He could have monitored the creep from home!"

"They wanted someone in the building; Prodigy is the only one available.  It's only for a couple days."

"That's bullshit and you know it.  By now those flowerboys have to be on to Kawaji… do you REALLY think they are just going to sit back and let the concert go on."

"He isn't in any danger…"

"Like Hell he isn't!  What happens when the kittens go in?  Nagi could get caught in the crossfire."

"He has his instructions… he's not to provide protection for Kawaji at all.  That is being left up to Scherient."  The look on the redhead's face was priceless… and more than made up for the aggravation of having his orders questioned… again!

"I think I heard you wrong… you said those screaming, creepy bitches are to protect Kawaji?"

"I am not going to make a habit of repeating myself."  He poured himself another cup of coffee… it was evening and he still had one more meeting to attend.

"Whatever… why the Hell does Nagi have to be there then?"

"To protect Esset's investment."

"The research?"

"The research."

**

Brad might feel that Nagi was safe and able to handle this assignment… but Bren didn't agree.  Okay he admitted it… he was worried about the kid.  But so many things could happen.  They KNEW the flowerboys were going to be moving in at some point… probably tonight before the concert when they would have a better idea where Kawaji was.  He didn't put much faith in Scherient's ability to stop Weiß.  Puleeze!  Those women were way out of their league… and deranged besides.  And Nagi was in the same building as Bunny-girl!

The boy's attraction to the girl would be cute… if it wasn't so nauseating.  ANYONE would be a better choice… heck why couldn't he just fall in love with that little kitten of Weiß, Bombay?  So what if they were enemies?  It was still an improvement over someone who's weapon of choice was the Umbrella of Death.

"Stop."

"Fuck you."

"Schuldich!"

Ooooh… Brad was downright pissy tonight… must be that new lawyer creep they were having to work with.  He had to admit, it was a LITTLE insulting how the asshole treated them.  The members of Schwarz weren't servants… at least not to the likes of Kinugawa.  "What crawled up your ass?"

"If you are going to be difficult you can just stay home."  The man was already moving, gun under his arm, sticking his keitai in his pocket.  Bren grabbed his long coat from the back of the couch and headed out after him.

"Where are we going?"

"Are you going to be difficult?"

"Not if you tell me where we're going…"

"To the stadium… Weiß is moving in…"

"Is this a good time to point out I told you so?"

"Shut up and drive…"  He punched numbers into his phone as soon as they pulled out onto the street.  "Prodigy, status…"

Bren was a little shocked that a) Brad was having him drive… and b) he hadn't bit the German's head off…  The redhead drove silently, concentrating on getting them across half the city in time to prevent whatever it was the American had seen.

"They will be coming… I don't want you getting involved… observation only… Oh, and back up the research, send copies out but do NOTHING to assist beyond verbal reports."  The man set the phone in its cradle on the dash.

–Yes, Oracle.–

~_What's happening_?~  All kidding aside… it was time for business.

~_As you already know… Weiß is moving in.  They will eliminate Kawaji of course… but Esset doesn't care as long as the research is recovered_.~

~_Typical_.~

~_He's only a mundane_.~

~_What about the chick squad?~_

_~They will try…~  _

Without looking, he knew Brad was smirking.  ~_And fail?~_

_~They are over their heads… as usual.~_

_~You know if Bunny-girl gets in trouble…~_

_~He has his instructions~_

–Oracle… Weiß is here.  Scherient is engaging.–

"Stay put, but inform Kawaji."

–Yes, sir.–  They could hear some typing and then apparently were patched into the system.  –Kawaji-san… four assassins have split up and are searching for your location.–

–Someone is after me?  I guess I'll give my new art a try… before the concert.–

They heard the opening measures of the man's revised song before Nagi cut it off.  They would be pulling up to one of the side entrances in less than a minute.  "Prodigy… extract.  Retreat according to plan.  The way will be clear, we will be outside."

–Hai.–

"So we're just leaving Kawaji for the flowerboys to kill?"

"He was never our concern.  Prodigy is."  They pulled up to the curb… barely five meters from the door.  Which was why Brad had chosen this particular entrance to place the boy near.  The door flew open moments before the telekinetic came hurtling out, hands full of laptop and other equipment.  He jumped into the back seat of Brad's BMW.

The American turned to look back at him.  "Did you need to leave anything identifiable?"

The boy shook his head.  "Iie.  The trash was picked up earlier and the room swept at that time.  There should be nothing."

Crawford nodded.  "Home."

Bren rolled his eyes.  "What am I… the damn chauffer now?"

**

Brad listened to the redhead bitch and complain for all of a day before sending him and Farfarello to Osaka to handle some business down there.  Aaaaahhh… blissful peace and quiet.  The only annoyance, besides having to see Kinugawa was hearing Nagi talking on the phone to that aqua-haired terror.  He went out, leaving strict orders that the boy was NOT to go out and meet with her… then drove to the Shinjuku high-rise that his current 'employer' was using.  Kinugawa was one of Esset's top lawyers, in Japan or elsewhere… he was also a low-level telepath.  VERY low-level, basically a step above hypnotist, and resentful off Schwarz because of that; low-level psis were only a step above bugs after all.  Getting him in a room with Schuldich was a recipe for disaster as jealousy and the redhead's natural talent for trouble faced off.

Kinugawa was lording over them, enjoying the fact that this elite group of high-level psis HAD to follow his orders.  He was also something of a bigot, and the fact that three of them were gaijin was not helping.  And Nagi he could ignore as the child most likely wasn't on any family register.  He was waiting as the man arrived from the courthouse, barely acknowledging Crawford, and followed him up to his office.  As the man sat at his desk to look over his messages, Brad's keitai rang.

"Crawford."

–Herr Crawford, we wish to speak to Kinugawa-san.–

"Of course."  He held the phone out to the Japanese man, who looked at him… then took it.

"Kinugawa desu… Very well, and pretty soon I'm planning to release another evil killer out into the world… I understand."  The lawyer glanced up at Crawford.  "Oh, Schwarz?  No need to worry.  Even if they should be brought to trial, I'll make sure they're acquitted."

It was all Brad could do not to make a face.  The Elders weren't expressing concern… they were warning him, don't get caught.  Nearly everything could be gotten away with… as long as you didn't get caught.

"Yes, you too.  Goodbye."  He turned off the phone and simply tossed it back at Crawford.

"What confidence!"  He barely kept the scowl off his face… to be treated this way… "I hear you killed another witness."

"I wish you wouldn't say such things.  That witness was committing perjury.  She couldn't take the pressure and she had a heart attack."

"I see.  But I hear the weapon has the defendant's fingerprints on it."  He had done the crime too… Schuldich said the guy's mind was a sewer… nasty piece of work.  He looked up, a moment before the door was knocked.  Two of Kinugawa's thugs walked in.  Oh yeah… couple rented yakuza bad boys, looking to make a name for themselves.

"Oh, good work…"  The lawyer stood up and took the gold club… that looked suspiciously like a piece of critical evidence…

"Is that?"

Kinugawa chuckled.  "Golf is one of my hobbies…"

Thank goodness Schuldich wasn't there… he's stuff that golf club right up Kinugawa's…  "If you do not need me, I have things to attend to."  The man simply shrugged, not even paying attention.  Crawford took himself out.

Arrogant asshole… and unfortunately too beneficial to Esset to kill.  But who's to say THEY had to do it… hmmm… perhaps it was time to have Nagi leak a little information to the right people again.  Weiß was proving to be quite useful after all…

TBC…

AN:  Not sure that Nagi was at the stadium/theatre place with Kawaji, but there is a shot just after Crawford talks to the guy, then makes a couple more comments… all you see of the person he is talking to is their torso, and it kinda looks like Nagi's uniform.  And I think someone had to have told Kawaji that assassins were after him, just judging by his little comment before Ran shows up.  As for Kinugawa… he was SOOOO treating Brad like a lackey there in the office.   Tossing the phone back?!  I can't see Brad liking that at all.


	57. We can’t be together anymore…

**_Rosenkreuz… sweet Rosenkreuz_**

**Chapter 57: We can't be together anymore…**

Bren fumed the whole way into the mansion.  Why did they have to have that creepy tank-thing with its vegetable occupant in the main hall?  How morbid was that?!  He mimed shooting the floating body of Masafumi before heading up the stairway.  Not even at the top yet and he was picking up the edges of their minds… gaaaah… Bunny-girl was REALLY off in her own little world today.  It was sad.

But they had Fujimiya Aya… the girl… and wouldn't be willing to give her up.  Too bad… Esset wanted her… and Schwarz would deliver.  He heard the sound of Neu's knife striking the door and shook his head before opening it.  Farf would have had a fit at such treatment of a blade.  He had a separate, and less worthy, set for practice.  You didn't fling your good ones around like toys.  

"You need to get rid of the giant guinea pig."  He couldn't resist 'twisting the knife' so to speak.  Besides… it was damn creepy!!!

Schoen bristled.  "You better watch your mouth."

Oh, he was quaking in his boots now.  He lounged in the doorway, just knowing that his attitude would drive them nuts.  "Why don't you let us use Masafumi for the Kundalini experiment?"  It was a good question in his opinion… get a little use out of the stiff.  He straightened to face them; he didn't really want to push them ALL into attacking him… that would be a waste of energy.  "I chose to hire you guys because I like you, you know that, ne?"  He left, ignoring the raging emotions behind him.  Let them think what they wanted… they weren't worth the air they breathed.

**

It was a couple days later that he arrived back after running a short errand, to see Brad on the phone, involved in a very serious conversation.  He leaned against the wall.  Nagi was typing away; as usual… did that kid EVER get out?  Crawford hung up, and folding the keitai, stuck it back in his pocket.  "They want her."

"What?  Esset headquarters wants Fujimiya Aya?"  He swore Crawford spoke so cryptically just to annoy him.

"That's right.  'What's taking so long, bring her now?' They said."

Nagi had stopped and turned to look at them.  Farfarello was checking one of his knives, mimicking Bren's pose against the other wall.  "Why her?"

"She has a special constitution, she hasn't aged since she was 16, and they want to use her for the ritual."

Nice trick, the redhead thought.  "But Fujimiya Aya is being held by Scherient.  They won't just hand her over."  At least… not without some SERIOUS encouragement.  That girl was the only leverage the dying team had after the disaster at that lab.  He had to admit, he wasn't going to miss the Neu…  He watched Brad's eyes harden with a bit of suppressed glee.

"Who cares if they refuse?"

The Irishman grinned… "If they don't listen to us…"  He toyed with his blade.

Bren shot a look over to Nagi, but the boy's face was impassive.  The German telepath wasn't reassured.  Crawford headed for the door.  "Gear up… and expect Weiß, I think they will be arriving as well.  We will use the confusion to remove the girl."

**

Brad watched the others walk up to the mansion.  Something was going on with Nagi… he couldn't get anything definite, his powers were being oddly reluctant to enlighten him today… but there was something hovering over the boy.  He refused to think of that right now… they had more important matters.  Tomorrow… tomorrow he would pin the boy down and they would have a talk.  It was obviously long overdue.  Schuldich opened the door and they stepped into the main foyer.

_~It's like a damn mausoleum...~_

He had to agree with the redhead… it was rather morbid, having Masa right there in the main room.  Their eyes were adjusting to the dimness after the sunshine outside when they were nearly bowled over by that aqua terror.  She ran by them crying, heading out into the sunlight.  Brad looked at the top of the stairway, seeing the other two remaining members of the 'chick squad' as Schu called them.  Out of the corner of his eye… he saw Nagi turn to follow the girl.

"Nani?"  Schuldich made as if to go after the boy…

"Leave him alone."  He addressed the remaining women.  "How are you?  Ladies of Scherient?"

Hel's eyes narrowed angrily.  "Schwarz!"

"I believe we have something to discuss with you… a certain Fujimiya Aya.  Headquarters is getting most insistent that we deliver her."  Crawford kept his tone even, cool… not letting on how much he despised them.  Love was a grand and wonderful thing… but they were obsessed.  Besides, Masafumi was a vegetable according to Schuldich.  There was NOTHING there.  Then again, most of Scherient didn't have anything left in their own heads so he shouldn't be too surprised.

"Give you the girl?"  The former model seemed irritated by the mere suggestion.  What did she think this was?  A debate?

"We'll pay you as much as you want…"

_~why bother… let's just take her…~_

Schuldich's comment had merit.  _~if we can just get her this way, it would avoid a great deal of annoyance.  Besides… it's not as if we would REALLY hand over the money.~_

_~you just want to get Nags away from Bunny-girl…~_

_~Enough… what ARE they doing out there?~_

The redhead made a mental gagging sound.  _~she's talking to her stuffed rabbit and our love-struck bishounen is watching… great, now he's trying to talk her out of staying with Scherient…~_

_~well… it would be one less opponent.  Keep your mind on this situation… that one doesn't seem too serious right now.~_

"We're not interested in money!"  Schoen snapped.

"This girl is our last chance to get Weiß.  NO DEAL!"

"Nani?!"  Farf growled, lifting his weapons.

_~is that the sound of their death warrants I hear being signed?~_

_~possibly…~_

"Give us the girl…"  The pale man was truly a sight to behold when his Irish temper was up.  Pity they couldn't let him loose… yet.

"Stop, Farfarello.  Scherient is on our side, I don't want to create a rift between us over a girl."  He stepped closer.  "Hel, Schoen, I'm sorry.  We won't force you, we understand how you feel.  Go ahead and use Aya's sister as bait to lure Weiß.  Weiß is our common enemy, we'd like to help you."  Schuldich was mentally snickering.

"Help us?"  Hel seemed suspicious.  Not a surprise.  She was the only one with half a brain in her head.

"That's right, we'll make arrangements for you to contact them.  The you can settle the score with Weiß!"

**

It really was quite entertaining to watch Nagi hack into the flowerboy's computer system, actually not THEIR system, he didn't want to alert Bombay to what he was doing or give the blond kid a chance to trace the hack back.  So the telekinetic got into their overseer's system.  The cameras were set up and Hel had her 'script'.  Nagi gave the signal and she started in on her little message…

_~was it really necessary for us to see this?~_  He asked Brad… personally he would have rather let Scherient deliver the message themselves.

_~I want to be sure they don't screw up…~_

_~Suuuuure you do…~_

_~and now… we need to get things set up for OUR role tonight.  We'll take the helicopter… go make sure it's gassed up and ready to go.  I'll contact headquarters.~_

_~any instructions for Farf and Nagi?~_

_~don't get into trouble…~_

**

Brad watched Schuldich and Farfarello finish with their preparations… Weiß was already there and moving in.  They were actually quite creative in getting around the outer perimeter defenses… then again, Farfarello hadn't designed them.  His gift was still giving him difficulty.  Maybe it was that damn girl.  She seemed to be the source of everyone's problems.  Nevertheless… damn.  That kid was going to be the death of him… a distinction that previously belonged to Schuldich alone.  "Continue with the plan, I need to check something."  The redhead waved, acknowledging him as the American walked away.

He hurried through the grounds, cursing the dew as it soaked the cuff of his pants.  He emerged from the bushes just in time to see the aqua-haired girl run by… Nagi a bit behind her.  Crawford shook his head and stepped out into the road.  He slapped Nagi… perhaps a bit harder than he had originally intended, but he was sick of this foolishness.

"What do you think you are doing?  Scherient should only be thinking about defeating Weiß.  Don't do anything stupid to weaken their hatred!"  or to get yourself killed…

"But I just…"

He had a flash… briefly… of Nagi, buried under rubble… motionless…  "Shut up, Nagi!  Have you forgotten your hatred?"  The boy seemed shocked… he didn't want to do this… but if he didn't they would lose him.  He had been the one to pick the child up out of the gutter… he had invested a lot of time and favors into this boy… "Since you were a child, you were shunned and scorned by society.  In your loneliness, you swore to seek revenge on society.  That's what Schwarz has been trying to achieve… Isn't that right?"  

It wasn't right… but he couldn't stand to lose Nagi at this point in the game.  He was more than a tool… in spite of Crawford's wishes… Bren had been right… they had become a family, dysfunctional for the most part… but a family.

"I know Crawford.  I am and always will be a member of Schwarz, no matter what happens."  He seemed subdued.  Brad could only hope his threat/warning had sunk in.

Satisfied that the boy was rebuked sufficiently, the American turned to walk away.  "Then forget about your petty desires until we reach our goal… Got it?"  He didn't think Nagi meant for him to hear his muttered reply… but by a trick of the wind he did.  Brad could only hope this situation wasn't about to blow up in their faces.

**

Schwarz gathered in Aya-chan's room.  Schuldich was scanning the rest of the building, Farfarello was itching for a fight he could smell the chum in the water, Nagi was sulking off to one side, Brad was still trying to get a glimpse of how the night was going to turn out.  "Crawford… they're here…"

The American nodded.  "Nagi… head downstairs… monitor the fight, create a distraction if you need to but DON'T GET INVOLVED!  Are we CLEAR on this?!"

"Crystal."  The boy snapped and headed for a side door.  Crawford shook his head.

"Something we should know about?"  Schu didn't like the sound of this.  Even Farfarello looked concerned.

"Hormones."  Their leader seemed almost exasperated with the boy.

"Ah… I'll have a talk with him."

"Do that."  The man snapped.

"Chill… just let Farf off the girl.  Then there's no problem."

"Except that then Nagi will blame us… We DON'T want him turning."

The redhead shuddered.  "Good lord NO… ticking off telekinetics is a BAD idea… speaking of which…"  He was still following the fight downstairs, even as Brad got the girl ready for transport.  "Nagi just did something incredibly stupid… I'll help you beat his ass when we get home…"

Crawford looked murderous.  "Schuldich… get the girl… we're leaving… Farfarello… you are point let noone get in our way, I will collect Prodigy."

_~oooh… nagi is in trouble…~_  Farfarello seemed almost happy… but then again he was probably hoping someone would try to stop them.

_~yeah… let's hope Brad doesn't kill him…~_

The American opened the door and they could see the tableau below.  Hel and Fujimiya were facing off… the others more or less standing around… Nagi was lying on top of Tot.  _~oh… gag me…~_

Schoen was heading up the stairway.  "Tot, we're getting out of here!"  She reached the top of the stairs and saw the open door… and Aya-chan in Schuldich's arms.  She stopped… stunned.

"We're taking the girl."  His voice was snide.  Schu cheered mentally.

"Nani?"

"Now that you have Weiß, you don't' need her anymore, do you?"

_~catty brad… very catty…I love it…~_

"Give her back!  She is our trump card!  If we keep her as a hostage, Weiß won't fight back!"

_~oh… now THAT'S cowardly… hiding behind a comatose teenager… very mature…~_  Schu made sure she heard it… she glared at him.  _~oooh… better… please, attack me… I DARE you!~_  Yeah so what… he could be immature too.

Crawford chuckled.  "You don't have the skill to defeat Weiß."

Schu managed not to laugh at the look of stunned disbelief on the woman's face.  _~is that the sound of your little plan crumbling around you… along with your life… by the way… how did YOU ever make it as a model… you're really ugly!~_

Fury rose in Schoen's eyes.  "We'll get them.  And as you promised, you will restore Masafumi to normal!"

_~Don't tell me you promised them that?~_

_~It got them to cooperate, didn't it?~_

_~True… but he was creepy BEFORE being transformed into some kind of deformed satyr…~_

"Pathetic.  Do you REALLY think Masafumi can be brought back?"  _~now Farfarello!~_  The Irishman, who had readied one of his blades during their conversation, threw the weapon, just missing Schoen's face… The blade struck the scientist's tank, causing it to crack and then break open, spilling the man's body onto the floor.

"Masafumi?!"  Hel abandoned her fight with Fujimiya to go to him…

_~eeeeewwww… did you have to dump him on the floor, Farf?~_

Schoen screamed at them.  "What have you done?!"

He shrugged, good thing the girl was fairly light, this holding her was starting to get annoying.  "Thanks to you, we were able to get our missing data."

"So in other words, you are no longer of use."  Crawford pulled his gun and shot the former model.  They watched as she fell back, dying.  Nagi and Tot were watching from below.  The girl looked at Hel weeping over Masa, at Schoen, then at them, eyes falling on Aya-chan.

"Papa… Schoen… NO, GIVE HER BACK!"

"Tot!"  The telekinetic reached for her, fingers just missing her arm…

"Give her back!"

It happened too quickly for anyone to do anything to prevent it… Farf had been given orders, and never let anything interfere with orders… the blade slid through the girl's body easily… She looked at them, in shock more than pain at this point… then fell back down the stairs to land in a heap at the bottom.

"Tot…"  The room was silent… the only sound, Nagi's footsteps as he walked over to the girl.  He picked her up, cradling her against him.  "Tot?"

"Nagi-kun… it looks like we can't be together anymore…"

"Tot… but… don't die…"

_~Shit!  Farf… what the hell did you do that for?!~_

_~Brad said I had point…~_

_~But…~_

_~Enough…~_  Crawford snapped… things started to shift underfoot.

"Please don't die!"  The whole mansion started to shake and even the untalented could feel the build up of energy.

_~Fuck!  He's gonna tear the place apart!~_

"Let's go…"  Crawford turned to walk through the room they had exited heading for the side door and ultimately, the helipad below.

_~go?  Are you insane… that's Nagi down there!!~_  Schu followed… hoping Brad would send Farfarello back for the boy.

"He made his choice… in the helicopter… we're going to deliver her as ordered."

"What the hell are you talking about?!"  The American grabbed the girl from the German's arms and climbed into the back, Farfarello was already in the copilot's seat.  "I'm going back for him…"  Schuldich half turned before seeing the gun pointed at his skull.

"Get in… we are leaving."

"That's NAGI you are abandoning."  He snarled.

"I will shoot you if you do not get in here right now, Schuldich."

**

The helicopter took off as the mansion collapsed.  Brad looked out the window… there was an outline of where the building had stood… and that was about it.  Whether Weiß had survived?  Only time would tell…

"We've finally gotten rid of everyone in our way.  All we have to do is take this girl to headquarters and the ritual will begin."

"Brad…"  The redhead was NOT happy… everyone in the vehicle could feel it.

_~not NOW… we are being monitored…~_

_~and THAT'S why you left a fellow member of Schwarz behind?  What happened to the TEAM?~_

Crawford knew Schuldich wasn't happy.  Heck, HE wasn't too happy with himself right then.  But they didn't have a choice.  _~I don't like it either…~_

_~Bull shit… you drag us out of there, abandoning Nagi… some 'leader' you are… asshole…~_

_~After we deliver her… you can go back…~_

_~Damn straight I'm going back… fucking prick…~_

_~Schuldich… Bren…~_

_~Don't TALK to me… I don't like you right now…~_

The rest of the trip was made in icy silence.

**

TBC…

AN: This part was really hard, especially with how I've depicted Brad and Bren in this story.  The slap was easy… if Crawford thought it would keep Nagi safe… I can see it happening.  But leaving Nagi behind?  That has always been something I wondered about.  Why would they abandon a teammate like that?  And then Nagi just shows up back with Schwarz as if nothing happened.  NANI?!  One of those famous Weiß plot holes I guess.


	58. I’m a good guy… really I am!

**_Rosenkreuz… sweet Rosenkreuz_**

**Chapter 58: I'm a good guy… really I am!**

Bren drove back toward the now ruined mansion as quickly as he could without incurring the wrath of the local authorities.  Esset might be able to control the main office… but out here, the local koban were out of their reach.  Farfarello was in the seat beside him, quiet for a change.  Crawford was taking the girl wherever she was supposed to go, with Muhktar.

The redhead was still rather put out with the American.

"Finally."

He agreed with Farf's assessment as they approached the zone of destruction.  It was remote enough that no one had noticed yet… and there were no pesky police or fire crews to contend with.  He parked and for a moment, they just looked at the devastation.

"wow."

Bren nodded.  "Wow indeed… good thing I never made him angry at me.  You're lucky he just tore the building apart and not you."

"Nagi won't blame me."

The German shook his head… but Farfarello was probably right.  Nagi understood necessity.  And he understood how Farf was when his bloodlust was up.  Still…

"I wish you hadn't done that."

The Irishman shrugged and climbed out of the car, Bren following.

**

The redhead carefully eased Nagi into his bed.  They had found the telekinetic pinned under a large amount of rubble.  Oddly enough, they hadn't found the aqua terror.  Not wanting to risk losing Nagi to his injuries… they hadn't really searched for the girl.  If she was dead… fine.  If she was dying… that was too bad.  If she was alive and had already stumbled off… why didn't she do anything for Nagi?

They had dug the boy out and carefully transferred him to the remains of a door… then they'd driven to the nearest Esset clinic.

Fortunately, there were no spinal injuries, which had been Bren's greatest fear.  Nagi had come through with only a concussion, bruised and cracked ribs, and a whole lot of contusions.  Not to mention the massive psychic backlash headache he was going to have on top of everything else.

The German tucked the sheets around the boy… then dug his down comforter out of the closet as well.  The doctor had wanted to keep Nagi overnight… but the telepath would have none of that.  He needed to have the boy home, where they could watch him.

"How is he?"

"If you had been there with us you would know, Crawford."

"Bren…"

"Don't!"  He finished covering Nagi and smoothed the covers.  Then with a last look back, he headed out into the hall, dragging Crawford along.  Schuldich didn't stop until he reached the American's office and shut the door.  "You fucking asshole!  How could you do this to us?  To him?!  Are we just tools to you?"

"Am I permitted to speak?"

"Not yet you bastard!  If you EVER pull shit like this again… we are gone… got it?!"

"My turn?"  The redhead's eyes narrowed, but he didn't say anything.  "Good.  First of all… if you were only tools to me, I would have left you in Paris… or at Rosenkreuz… or any number of times since then.  You are NOT expendable to me.  Before you ask, neither is Nagi or Farfarello.  But you ARE to them.  We were on shaky footing, not having turned the girl over before.  We are still going to have to be very careful.  Don't push this… it is much bigger than we are.  The Elders are coming."

"What?!  Oh shit… shit shit shit shit…"  He fell into a chair, heavily.  The Elders… stuff of nightmares…

"Yes… we have a few days before we will have to do anything else… take care of Nagi."

**

Crawford mused on the recent friction between himself and the redheaded telepath.  Much as the busybody in Schuldich liked to think he knew what everyone was doing… he was quite in the dark on some things.  They HAD to produce the girl and get Muhktar off their backs.  It was essential that the man, and the other overseers currently flooding Japan, not look TOO closely into Schwarz's agenda… or loyalties.  To do that, he had been forced to leave Nagi behind.  It wasn't something he had enjoyed or wanted to do, it had been necessary to preserve Schwarz as a whole.  But Bren didn't see it that way.  For all that the German had tried to purge himself of caring over the years; he was quite the mother hen when it came to the boy.

Catching a flash… the American moved into position.  Where was he…?  He spotted the Esset dignitary approaching from customs, easily marked by his bodyguards.  Ah… the man with the cell phone…  Stepping behind a column, he drew his gun, the silencer already in place.  The Kritiker operative was busy reporting on the arriving official… then he suddenly jerked and the phone dropped.  Crawford carefully replaced his gun, smoothing his coat over the holster.  He nodded to the passing official and headed for another exit.  "Bothersome fly…"

Locating his car and paying the parking fee, the American was soon on his way back to the apartment.  Tonight Farfarello would make a similar hit as a small boat arrived in the harbor.  Schuldich too would make a quick escort run… but wouldn't have any trouble.  In this way, Nagi would never be left unattended and yet they would fulfill obligations to the security of the arriving Esset dignitaries.

Maybe this could work out after all…

**

It was just another surveillance run… their normal drive by to check on the kittens… when Schuldich noticed a girl standing outside the flower shop.  Not that it was an extraordinary occurrence… but this girl…

"What's the matter?"  Farf was being fairly quiet in the seat beside him up to this point.

"Nothing."  He pulled over to watch the girl in the mirror.  One of the kittens came out to talk to her.

"It's Weiß, let's do it!"

Oh yes… Farfie hadn't had enough exercise lately…  "Wait, I have an idea.  That girl, we can use her."

The Irishman chuckled.  "Reading her mind, huh?  What is it like, does it taste like honey?"

The redhead rolled his eyes.  Not EVERYONE tasted like honey.  "It's not always fun.  Other people's minds are intruding on mine… Sometimes I can't tell their thoughts from my own."  He picked up the phone.

"What are ye doin'?"

"Calling Brad… he might want to okay this before I pull something big…"

**

Farf hadn't been happy about being dropped off at home.  But Bren really didn't want the distraction of having to baby-sit the psycho.  It was going to be taxing enough to deal with the girl.  He shuddered; girls… their minds were the most annoying on the planet.  He spotted the girl… Sakura… leaning over the rail of an elevated crosswalk.  One push… but no.  Brad would have a fit.  He had okayed this, and the redhead had to deliver.  He gagged… her thoughts… so she thinks her flowerboy was only nice to her cause she looks like his sister.  That was twisted… Farf would LOVE that tidbit.

He directed his thoughts to her… getting a bit of pleasure out of watching her jump and look around… then sidled up to where she was, leaning over the railing.  He saw her turn and jump again out of the corner of his eye.  Oh but he was easily amused tonight.  "Come with me."

"Who are you?"

Come into my parlor, little girl…  "A friend of Aya."

"A friend of Aya-san?"

Was the ditz going to parrot back everything he said?  "He's been acting strange lately, hasn't he?"  Her desire to know what was going on was enough to get her to follow him to a nearby café.  They ordered, fortunately this was business and Schuldich could use 'company funds'.  He lounged, trying to give the impression of friendliness.  Anyone with experience would think of him more as a cat, waiting to pounce.  But the girl was naïve and moderately clueless to the danger she was in.  Although… she was suspicious, point to her.

"Don't you want to know where his sister is?  If you come with me, you can see her."  The picture was on the table… he gave her a nudge… come on, pick it up…

She did, looking at it.  "Is this…"

"That's right, this is Aya's little sister."

"But I thought she was missing…"  She was distrustful of him… and his motives.  She did have a brain after all.

"Are you afraid of me?  You would do anything for Aya, right?  I know everything about him."  He poured on the charm as she mulled it all over.  Nyah nyah Brad… I CAN be subtle… when it suits me.  In the end she agreed to accompany him, as the smug American had told him she would.  Schuldich drove back to the quiet residential area that housed the Esset lab that was preparing the Fujimiya girl for the ritual.  He took Sakura up to the observation level.

"So it was worth coming with me, wasn't it?  I haven't told a lie since I was born."  Well… maybe a few creative truths… but I didn't lie tonight!  Farfie would be disappointed.  The rest of their conversation was annoying at best.  It really wasn't fair… since he had access to her thoughts and could answer questions before she even asked them.  In the end, he maneuvered her right into agreement… that HIS was the only way to get through to 'Aya-san'.

He took her back down, but directed her to another car… a limo; he had pulled chauffeur duty that night.  Unfortunately, Nagi would have to be left alone for a couple hours, Brad better make sure he had everything he might need.  As they pulled out of the gate, the redhead nodded toward the glove box.  "In there is what you will need."

Sakura opened the compartment.  Inside was one of Brad's spare guns.  Schuldich frowned slightly.  Her hands were quite small, they should have used one of Nagi's guns for her, oh well… she'll have to make do.  "A… a GUN?!"

"Of course… Aya is an assassin… you don't think words will work with him right now, do you?"  He checked his watch; according to the timetable he'd been given… the plane was landing shortly.  It was a chartered jumbo jet.  The Elders with their select bodyguards, all high-level psis, would be riding in first class.  Business class would contain other high ranking operatives, and economy was filled with everyone else.  Esset had a lot of people to get into the country in a short time; they weren't going to waste resources.  Only the Elders were going to be slipped into the country however.  He glanced over at the girl, still fretting over the weapon in her lap.  "Don't worry, it's easy.  You'll just give him a little scare… then he might come around."  She wasn't convinced.  "It's hard for me too.  But that's friendship.  You understand that, don't you?"

She didn't believe him… but he could work around that.  He would just take over her body if need be.  He pulled into the airport grounds, through a side gate that was opened by undercover agents.  Schuldich skillfully maneuvered the car into position.  He could see the fossils themselves coming down the stairway and over to the car… then explosions rocked the area.  Crawford and Farf were already moving to head off Weiß as the bodyguards hustled the Elders into the waiting car.  The redhead took off toward the gate…

He braked in time to avoid another explosion just in front of them… out of the flames, looking like some kind of cheesy samurai movie… walked Abyssinian, sword ready.  A sword?!  Please… welcome to the 20th century, get yourself a REAL weapon…  He prodded the girl.  /Go on… there he is…/

He watched her get out… and saw the expression on Abyssinian's face.  Oh this was priceless!  He opened his own door, wanting the man to see WHO was really running this show.  "That's good… keep going."  He watched the scene unfold, knowing that everyone else was watching as well.  How noble… the samurai threw down his sword… too bad Schu didn't really care about all that honor crap.  He reinforced his mental commands… shoot him…

She did… but what a crappy shot.  She was fighting him.  "Come on, take better aim!  You can't be a good hit man like that!"

Out of nowhere… something knocked the gun from her hand.  Schu swore mentally… Farf and Crawford were supposed to be keeping the rest of Weiß from interfering.  The American was suddenly behind the redhead.  "That's enough for today."  He climbed into the back with the Elders.

Farf protested, but the wails of the approaching police headed off the bloodbath.  Schu ducked back into the car as the Irishman grabbed the stunned girl and forced her back into the front seat, climbing in after her.  The telepath hit the accelerator, heading for the gate as soon as the door was closed.  Sakura was shaking, crying silently, having to sit next to Farfie probably wasn't doing any wonders for her mental state.

They hadn't managed to kill the kittens… but they had shaken them up.  The Elders had arrived safely and they still had the girl in their possession.  Bonus.

/Head for Muhktar's estate… we'll deliver the Elders then go back to the lab.  I left Nagi there since we'll be staying at that location until the ritual./

/Will do boss man.  What about the girl?/

/She might yet prove to be useful… don't let Farf play with her./

/Gotcha…/  He reminded the Irishman that the girl was off limits then concentrated on driving… trying to studiously ignore the immense amount of psychic power seated only a few feet behind him.

**

TBC…

AN:  Sorry this has taken so long.  I write best in the morning… but I've been working a lot lately and therefore by the time I'm done with email and stuff, it's time to get ready for school.  Also, I think I just didn't want to do this whole part with Sakura… she's annoying (though not as annoying as Tot).  Thank you to my regular readers who are being so patient with me.  I PROMISE, I'm not abandoning this fic… it's just taking me longer than I like to get new chapters written.  Gomen!  -Yan


	59. Changelings

**_Rosenkreuz… sweet Rosenkreuz_**

**Chapter 59: Changelings**

The American peered down into the lab.  The scientists had assured him that the girl would be ready on time.  They knew what would happen to them if she wasn't.  He was very aware of Schuldich standing just out of sight behind him, and of Farfarello and Nagi by the far wall.  For the boy, it was the first day mother-Schu had allowed him to get out of bed.  Most likely the teen should still BE in bed, but they had too much to do.  He was recovered enough to be up… so he had to be.

"There's no point in dwelling on it."

It took Brad a moment to realize the redhead wasn't talking to him.  Or to Nagi or Farfarello either.  That girl.  She was annoying… but would be useful, although Schuldich would want to shoot her before they were done.

"Why don't you come over here and check this out?"

~_Playing?_~

_~Of course, fearless leader.  What else am I supposed to do?  She's the only toy I have.~_

_~We'll have to get you some more.~_

_~Please do that… this one gets irritating after a while.~_

"What are they doing to her?"

Beating Schuldich to the punch, Brad answered.  "Making final adjustments to her DNA."

"But why?"

_~why indeed…~_  "It's for the ritual."

Brad was hard pressed not to smile at the tone of the redhead's voice.  _~now now… play nice…~_

~_but this is so much fun!_~  "They're sacrificing her to summon spirits from the past."

"HIDOI!!"

~_little girl… you have NO idea…~_  "It's not going to happen."

"But the old folks believe it."   ~_Schuldich… don't play the hand before it's dealt please.~_

"It's kid stuff."  They almost turned around to look at Nagi… it was the first time he'd offered any type of comment around the girl.

~_Please tell me he's not going to get attached to THIS one too?~_

_~To my knowledge, no.~_  Crawford only half paid attention to the rest of the conversation… there was something, he was just getting the edges of it… but it was important to them.  He came back as Schuldich grabbed the girl's wrist, threateningly.  "Don't scare her too much, she is still of use to us."  It was getting annoying… something to do with this girl… and the other one, but with the Elders and their power in such close proximity, anywhere within the COUNTRY, his talents were harder to focus.  It was like trying to find a single hawk in the middle of a sunny sky, he knew it was there, but because of the brightness of the light, couldn't see it.  He started to walk away, maybe if he could meditate for a bit…

"I wonder what you have planned, you king of demons."

~_flattery, Schuldich?_~  "Yes, and you're one of my demons."  He noticed the Irishman as he suddenly straightened and headed for the door.

"Where are you going?"  Nagi hadn't moved, he was probably still sore.

"Hunting."

~_Should I stop him, Brad?_~

~_No…more of those annoying flies, let him play exterminator.~_

**

To say that Brad was less than pleased when Farfarello returned would be an understatement.  Watching the scientists scurry around like cockroaches was amusing though.  Crawford immediately closeted himself in an office to make arrangements to transfer EVERYTHING to the museum.  Schuldich made sure that Nagi and their belongings were shipped out in the first truck, if nothing else, the boy should be able to get some rest before they showed up.  Farfarello went with the boy, too keyed up to really be of any use around the facility.  The 'sleeping beauty' was readied for transport and sent on her way.  The last thing Schuldich had to do was retrieve the other girl from the room he'd stuck her in.

He walked in.  "Hey, let's go…"  No girl.  The window was open and a sheet rope dangled out.  He swore.  "She got away?"  ~_Brad… we've got trouble…~_

_~She's gone?~_

_~Holding out on me again?~_

_~I wasn't sure… everything is… difficult with THEM in the vicinity.~_

_~So now what?~_

_~We don't have time for this now.  We have to go, Schwarz has been 'summoned'.~_

_~Shit!~_

_~Indeed… we'll figure out how to handle this later.  Meet me at the car.~_

The German left the empty room and headed for the parking lot.  He had underestimated her.  He had honestly thought they'd cowed her enough that she wouldn't cause problems like this.  Next time… if there WAS a next time… he wasn't going to make the same mistake again.

The drive out to the museum was quiet.  Neither man really felt like talking.  It was finally Brad who broke the silence.  "This may be our only chance…"

"What?"

"Don't make me say it… don't even make me think it… you know."

"Yeah."  Silence reigned again for a couple kilometers.  "Do you think it'll work?"

"Maybe… if everything falls into place…"

"Can't you 'see'?"

"Not with THEM involved… and even without that problem… I don't think I want to know ahead of time."

**

Suits… white suits.  Brad LIKED suits… liked the image, the aura of power that they gave.  Besides which, it made his dressing choices easier.  Schuldich hated suits as much as he liked them.  At least, he hated the white, formal wear he was trying to make look presentable.  If Schu had to wear a suit… he preferred something like his dress pants and blazer combination.  At least he didn't have to cut his hair.  Brad wasn't sure he could ever convince the German to do THAT again.  He still vividly remembered his first glimpse of the streetwise boy, before the mandatory haircut, insisting that he needed his scarf.

He shook off the memories and checked the other members of Schwarz.  Farfarello was staring out the window moodily.  He was still out of sorts for having lost the woman.  Privately, Crawford was a little grateful for that… hopefully it would make other things fall into place.  Nagi was sitting stiffly on a couch.  He'd been able to get a nap in and looked a little more rested.  He wouldn't complain, he never did, but he was in pain.  Brad would have to get Schu to give the boy some medication soon.

They had discovered a very nasty surprise upon arriving at the museum.  Their 'perfect sacrifice' was missing.   That Sakura girl had royally outsmarted all of them, switching herself for Fujimiya.  If it hadn't put all their lives at such risk, he would have applauded her courage.  As it was, they would have to cover during their audience with the Elders and THEN they could address this problem.

Without him even having to say anything, the redhead finished primping and taking a look at their youngest member… moved off to the side, returning with a small pill and a glass of water.  "Take it."

Nagi frowned slightly.  "I'm okay…"

"You'll need it later… take it."  Surprisingly, the telekinetic didn't fight it, accepting the medicine.  That was an indicator how much he WAS hurting.  There was a light knock at the door.

"Enter."

One of the officious flunkies that infested any area occupied by the Elders entered.  "THEY will see you now."

The American nodded.  "Let's go."  It was a short trip down the hall… but he concentrated on pulling 'Crawford' around him… shielding his thoughts and motives, his desires.  He could sense Schuldich doing the same thing.  Submerging the last vestiges of 'Bren' as deeply as he could.  Farfarello… would be Farfarello, confusing as hell for anyone not used to him.  Nagi… he was the wildcard.  He wasn't talented enough to fully shield, yet hopefully wasn't important enough for them to truly dig into.  Brad knew Schuldich had worked extensively with the boy's shields… they could only hope it would be enough.

The door was opened as they approached and soon they were in the audience chamber.  The Elders sat facing them on a couch.  The head, the one Schu referred to as 'Baldie' spoke first.  "It's been a while, Crawford."

"I'm glad to see the Elders of Esset are looking so well.  I am honored to see you again."  Ritual phrases… the same thing they expected to hear from almost anyone they had audience with.

The lone female, looked past him toward the redhead.  "We hear that Schuldich is making preparations for the ritual."

"People's desires are covered with a thin skin called 'reason', all I'm doing is peeling it off."

She laughed.  "Spoken like a man who has looked Death in the face… Playing with people's hearts comes easy to you?"

"You could say that."  Crawford could just hear the smirk.  He hoped Schu was being careful… one misstep in here… and there wouldn't be another.

The final Elder… the one with the monocle addressed the Irishman.  "Are you still seeking revenge against God, Farfarello?"

"Death of God is my desire."  Fortunately, Farf was fairly predictable, and his mind a virtual labyrinth.

The man nodded and looked to their youngest.  "Nagi, have you gotten used to being a member of Schwarz?"

"I suppose."  It was a very typical teenage answer, and seemed to appease them.

Baldie took control of the conversation again.  "Are the preparations for the ritual proceeding?"

"Everything is in order."  He refused to think of the missing sacrifice, meddlesome females.

"We heard special element has been transported, when can we see her?"

Crawford's blood froze in his veins.  Thank goodness they hadn't told Farf or Nagi about the switch, they couldn't accidentally betray them.  He tried to maintain his cool, but couldn't help the slight flutter of nervousness.  "We are still making final adjustments."

The man's eyes, already hard, glinted dangerously.  "You are taking an awfully long time."

A warning… don't mess up or you'll be sacrificed as well.  He could feel his heart being squeezed in his chest… one of the Elder's favorite techniques.  "Her condition is very exceptional, so we are being careful."

"Will she be ready for the ritual tomorrow?"  Monocle asked.

"Of course."

Granny chided them lightly.  "We are counting on you.  Only once every 800 years are all the stars are in alignment with the new moon.  If we miss tomorrow, it will be nearly impossible for him to return ever again."

Baldie released his hold on the American's heart.  "Don't disappoint us."

"We will not let you down."  They bowed and filed out, not breathing easier until they were on the other side of the compound.  He let out a sigh of relief.

"I thought we were screwed…"  Schuldich was already tugging the tie loose.

"What's going on?"  Farfarello asked, having picked up that something was amiss.

Brad opened a door.  Sakura jumped up from the chair she had been sitting in.  "It seems that the faeries from your homeland decided to leave a changeling behind in place of our 'perfect sacrifice'.

**

Bren hummed along with his imported German rock cd as they headed back into the city.  Nagi was sitting in the passenger seat, staring out the window.  "You sure you're okay for this, kid?"

"I'm fine.  Besides, who else was Brad going to send?"  He added with a wry twist of humor.  The telepath laughed.

"Point.  I'll be close enough if you run into trouble."

"Brad said I would be okay."

"BRAD isn't seeing everything clearly right now… or else we wouldn't have to do this."

"Schu… are we in a lot of trouble?  I mean, if THEY find out what happened."

"If THEY find out what's going on… we won't have to worry about being in trouble… we'll be dead."  He pulled over, parking illegally a block away from the Koneko.  "Here's your stop… I'll 'ride' along.  Just give them the message and come back here… then we'll rendezvous with Crawford and Farfarello for phase 2."

"I know."  Nagi climbed out and quietly shut the sports car's door.  Bren got out as well and leaned against the wall of a nearby building.  Closing his eyes he 'slipped' into the boy's mind, seeing what he saw, hearing what he heard.  The boy walked down the narrow alley and waited just inside Weiß's perimeter.  In a few minutes the door opened and the redhead… Fujimiya stepped out.

"You… You are…"

Nagi didn't give the man a chance to finish, delivering his message in his quiet way.  "Crawford wasn't to exchange the girls.  Meet us at the construction site by the Tokyo Cross-bay Road tonight."

"Wakatta."

The telekinetic turned and disappeared by into the darkness.  Bren carefully extracted his mind from the teen's and was waiting in the car when Nagi returned.  "Good job."  He even got a ghost of a smile as a reward.  The redhead took a mental snapshot, Nagi's smiles were rare.  "Now… I'll switch you for Farf and we'll get this whole situation cleared up by the time you should be in bed."  He didn't need to see the eye roll to know it was there.  German rock once again filled the car as they left the sleepy neighborhood.

**

TBC…

AN: You're lucky… I almost ended this chapter twice, before the current spot… perfect endings, but made it too short.  Anyways… what is that I see?  A light?  At the end of the tunnel?  Probably just the shinkansen about to run me over…


	60. On the Edge of Treason

**_Rosenkreuz… sweet Rosenkreuz_**

**Chapter 60: On the Edge of Treason**

The switch was made quickly.  Schuldich pulled up alongside Brad's BMW and Nagi got out, trading places with Farfarello.  The redhead gave the American a jaunty wave as the dark car drove away.  "So… ready to go retrieve our Sleeping Beauty?"  Farf chuckled.  "I'll take that as a yes…"  Schu pulled out of the parking area and back into the moderately busy city streets.

"How do you want to go in?"

"Hmmm… good question, I don't suppose Brad made any prophetic suggestions?"  The Irishman snorted.  "Didn't think so… when Nagi delivered the message, the princess was upstairs."

"They'll move her."

"Undoubtedly, but whether they will keep her up there or not…"

"You go high, I'll go low."

"That works for me."

Farf pulled one of his blades.  "Can I kill them yet?"

"Any of the kittens?  No… not yet… but any random bystanders, they're fair game."

The pale man grinned.

**

Crawford drove away from the construction site.  One-track minds were so easy to predict, he hadn't even had to use his gift to know the redhead was going to appear.  And of course the man wasn't going to let go of his sister.  The foolish 'hero' thought to rescue the other girl on his own.  How foolish.  The girl in question was cowering in the back seat, glancing at the back of his head… then Nagi's.  The telekinetic was ignoring her; something had relieved the American to no end.  They didn't have time for the same type of foolishness like with Tot.

"Where are we going?"  The teen's voice was soft.

"The museum.  They will bring the Fujimiya girl directly there… we will be in time."

"Aa."  Midnight eyes glanced back at the girl in the back seat.  "What about her?"

"I have a plan."

Nagi looked at him… then nodded, turning back to his window.  Brad was oddly touched… the unquestioned trust and loyalty Nagi was showing him.  He reached over and patted the boy's knee, squeezing it gently.

They left the city limits, heading along the coast.  He noted the dark clouds gathering on the horizon…

**

~_I'm heading in.~_

Farf didn't respond, more of the mental equivalent of a nod; then the Irishman was heading towards the flowershop.  Glass shattered into the room, over the bed and the two young men waiting inside.  Schu paused on the sill trying not to laugh.

_~showoff…~_

_~I always did know how to make an entrance.~_

A wordless expression of disgust and Schu nearly chuckled again.  He looked down at their shocked expressions.  "We're come to get our sleeping beauty."  He was largely annoyed with their attempt at witty banter… although the blond was much better at it than the brunette.  He leaped between them, landing lightly and turning around and striking out at the one with the claw.  The brunette was lighter on his feet than Schu had figured, dodging the blow, then they closed in between him and the bed.  How… noble.  Pity they didn't realize he already knew the girl wasn't there.  Ah well, he'd play the game, it would give Farf more time to find her.

_~she's not up here… there's a couple of minds down where you're coming in.~_

_~Shah!~_

He burst between them and ripped the sheet off, trying to remember to looked shocked to see the bundle of pillows and not a certain dark-haired comatose girl.  He chuckled and turned to look at them.  "Good going."  It was so hard to keep the sarcasm out of his voice.  He was aware of Farf moving in on the two guarding the girl.  The woman the Irishman dismissed almost immediately.  Perhaps not surprisingly, it was the youngest one that gave Farf the most trouble.  He would have to delay these two till the pale man was done.

"Did you forget that we aren't ordinary devils?"  It wasn't the best fight he'd had for a while, but it wasn't too bad.  He kicked the brunette, Ken, away then knocked Youji to the ground, flinging himself on top and reaching for the blonde's throat.  He had plucked their names from their minds.  He caught site of a claw coming his way just in time.

"Take this!"

Schu dodged and then struck, sending the brunette flying back across the room.  He swore mentally, the kitten had managed to mark him, damn claws.  "Incompetent fools!"  _~almost done Farf?~_

_~give me another minute… this kitten is fun to play with.~_

_~wrap it up, I'm losing my patience here.~_

"you damn bastard…"  Youji croaked underneath him.

As enjoyable as it was to be on top of the blond… he stood and pinned the man's head with his foot.  "That's enough, tough guy.  If you die now, you'll miss the show."

"show?"

"Look forward to it."  He headed for the window, getting a spring off the bed and leaping outside.  He landed lightly in the alley.  _~I'm out.~_

The Irishman stepped out the back door, carrying the girl… he was only splashed with a little blood.  Schu sighed.  "Don't forget to get the plastic out before you sit in MY car."

**

When they pulled up to the 'service entrance', Crawford was waiting with a gurney and a couple female attendants.  The American pulled the girl from the back seat and handed her over to the women.  The group headed into the facility.  Schu nodded toward the women.  _~who are they?~_

_~Dressers… they will get her changed and ready for the ceremony.  I'll present her to the Elders, then she'll be brought back to the waiting area behind the stage.  You might as well get something to eat and rest for a while, it's a couple hours till the ceremony.~_

_~Where's Nagi?~_

_~Taking a nap, yes I made sure he got some pain medicine.~_

_~Good, he has to be hurting by now.  Yo, Farf… lets get some food.~_  They peeled off from the group, heading up a nearby staircase.  Brad continued with the women into the waiting room.  They changed the girl into a simple white dress.  He noted absently that the dress was silk, no expense was being spared… even for the 'sacrifice'

"Is she ready?"

"Yes, sir."  

He waved the women away and then himself picked up Fujimiya and carried her out to the altar.  Once she was in place, he picked up his phone.  "Inform the Elders that the girl is in place for their examination."

**

Schu felt much better after a nap and a meal.  He wasn't happy about having to put on that white suit again though.  All in all, he felt sorrier for Nagi.  The boy just wasn't tall or solid enough to really pull off his suit, the kid would have been better off with something like his school uniform but in white.  He looked up as Brad returned, waving the man over.  "Saved some dinner for you."

"Thank you."  The American sat down and dug into his meal.

"So… the Geriatric Trio are happy now?"

Brad snorted, trying not to laugh around his mouthful.  "Not likely, they are never 'happy'… are they somewhat appeased, yes.  But…"

"But they are still suspicious of the wait?"

"Indeed.  They suspect… but have no firm evidence."

The redhead felt like he'd been doused with cold water.  "We're really going to try, aren't we?"

"We don't have a choice.  If we do nothing and they are successful, they will still know.  And merely contemplating what we have…"

"Is treason.  I know, we all know.  We're behind you."

Brad finished his coffee and steepled his fingers.  "If I haven't said it…"

"We know, Brad.  We know."

**

Waiting sucked.  Schu was keeping one ear on the ritual.  The Elders were making their 'inspirational' speech, what a bunch of bullshit that was.  Nagi and Farf were lucky… THEY got to stay upstairs with the girl, while HE was stuck down here with Brad and the other girl.  He didn't dare think about which girl was which, who knew if the Elders or Mukhtar or someone else was randomly scanning.  After tonight, they would either be free… or they would be dead.  There would be no middle ground or second chances.

"It's time."  Brad started to wheel the gurney out, he would place the girl on the altar then come back to take his place as the waiting attendant.  They were under no illusions.  Should the ritual work, they would be nothing more than slaves.  Maybe with a little better conditions than most, but slaves nonetheless.

Schwarz would be no one's slaves.

**

TBC…

AN: Why yes… I AM evil.  But I didn't want to try to do EVERYTHING in one chapter.  I predict only one chapter left.  I have written out the dialogue for the rest of the show.  So I can just sit down and write the last part… maybe in a couple days… don't want to end it too soon, ne?  ^_~    Thanks for hanging in there!!!  -Yanagi


	61. The End… or the Beginning?

**_Rosenkreuz… sweet Rosenkreuz_**

**Chapter 61: The End… or the Beginning?**

AN: As this is the final chapter, I want to make my thanks first.  I want to thank the very loyal readers who have stuck with this fic throughout the nearly two years it has taken to get through this story.  Also, thanks to the readers that have come into the fic in-progress.  I know some of you read the fic straight through, I applaud you.  Of course, nothing this major could ever get done without the feedback and input of valued readers and friends.  Thanks goes out to: Aoe (who got me into this whole fanfic thing) and Shoori (who introduced me to Aoe, go bug both of them to update!!!), Kiki, Ami, Miki, the totally awesome Enigma (who will hopefully find enough time to read this someday), Akasha (who is going to be in mourning now), Skippyscat, and others that I will list at the end since this is getting so long.  Thank you.

Schwarz would be no one's slaves.

"Come… we don't want to be here much longer."  Brad turned away from the spectacle and headed for the rotunda at the top of the museum.

_~What about the Elders?  The other high ranked members of Esset?~_

_~They will be taken care of shortly.  Except for the Senior Elder… he'll slip through their claws.~_

_~Ah… the kittens are coming?~_

_~They are already here, see if you can 'find' them, won't you?~_

_~Certainly.~_  He ran a quick scan through the facility.  _~They've split up… the swordsman is on his own, taking a rather direct approach.  The ones with claw and wire are sliding around to enter a different way… the little one is setting up to destroy the armory.~_

_~We need to hurry then… this route will be impassable after the explosion… which will incidentally take care of most of the minor Esset agents.  The rest will escape on their own.  They are of no concern to us.~_

They burst into the rotunda.  Farf and Nagi looked up, surprised.  The two were sitting on the steps, Fujimiya laying on her gurney nearby.  "Look lively, we'll be having guests soon."  They nodded.  Nagi stood and moved closer to where Brad and Schu were now talking.  The building rocked.  "There goes the armory."

Crawford closed his eyes for a moment, checking what he could see… it was so difficult with the Elder, the one remaining anyways, getting closer.  Schu had to have his shields locked down as tightly as possible so as not to be dragged into the bloodbath below.  "Get ready… the Elder will be here first… he must be dead before Weiß arrives."  His eyes opened and he looked at Nagi.  "Goad him into attacking you, you can stop him.  It will shake his confidence when he can't hurt you.  Keep him off balance… borrow some of Schu's ego."

"Hey?!"

Nagi almost smiled, and nodded.  Crawford looked to Farfarello.  "The kill goes to you."  The Irishman grinned.

"And Weiß?"

The American turned his back to the door.  "I don't know what will happen… I can't 'see' that far ahead."

**

The door flew open.  "What are you doing?"

Crawford drew his arrogance around him, turning around.  "How is the ritual?"

Schu snickered mentally, linking them all.  _~Good one.~_

_~Thank you.~_

"What are you talking about?  The enemy is here, get rid of them!"  He seemed to notice the gurney for the first time.  "Who is that girl?  Why do you have the girl?"

_~A little slow on the uptake isn't he?~_  Schu commented dryly.

_~Well… it has been a busy night.~_  Nagi offered.

The redhead leaned over the girl's head, to hide his smirk.  "We will awaken this girl."  _~I figure he REALLY won't like the idea that we might get the power.~_

_~Good idea, let's go with that.~_  Crawford nodded slightly.

"You fools!  Do you really think you're capable?"

_~Well… THAT was insultin'.~_

_~Remember Farf… he's having a bad night.~_

Nagi looked away, contemptuously.  "Bakayarou."

"Ridiculous!  I will not allow it!"  The boy's attitude obviously angered the Elder and he lashed out with his power.

_~Stand firm, Nagi… you can stop him.~_  Crawford's calm bolstered the teen's confidence.  Nagi's uncertainty was understandable, this WAS one of the Elders… one of THEM.  The stuff of nightmares… and to think that the young telekinetic could stop an Elder.  It was a bit hard to swallow.

And yet as the unseen attack raced toward the boy, detected only by the floor cracking beneath it, Nagi stood there, calmly.  Only a few centimeters away from the boy's foot… it stopped.  The Elder looked shocked.  "Why?"

Maybe inspired by Brad's arrogance… Nagi stepped on the cracks.  "You can't kill us with your petty tricks."

_~Ooooh… GOOD one!!!  I knew you had it in you, kiddo.  I'm so proud.~_

_~shut up…~_  But there was a flush of pleasure from Nagi.

"When did you become so powerful?"

"We are no longer who you think we are."

Crawford knew his words couldn't be truer.  They were no longer the servants the Elder considered them to be.  A mix of confidence and desperation would hopefully do the rest.  That and keeping the man off balance.  Farf rose and started to advance on him, the Elder actually backed up.  The psychological assault had begun.

"If it is power you want, I will gladly give you a position when our kingdom arrives."

_~oooh… isn't THAT an attractive offer?~_  Schu commented snidely.

"Kingdom?"  He adjusted his glasses, a gesture that obviously annoyed the Elder.  "We're not interested in that."

"Then what do you want?"

_~Yer head on a plate?~_  Farf advanced as much as the Elder backed up.  "It's our time."

"What?"

"What you are doing is chasing dreams from the past.  On one needs a kingdom."

"Playing war games is passé."  Somehow Schu managed to say it without laughing, out loud anyways.

"Youngsters!  How dare you speak that way?"

_~Can I kill 'im yet?~_

Crawford nodded slightly.  Farf lifted the blade, stabbing repeatedly.  The American looked pleased as the Elder was too shocked to actually fight back.  This had been the only uncertainty, if they could actually kill the man.

When it was over, the banter and the stabbing… the last Elder of Esset lay dead on the marble.  They had done it… they were free…

"We're still here!"

_~Well, damn.  Why couldn't they just go home?~_

_~We still have his sister, Schuldich.  Did you think he would really go without her?~_  Nagi commented.

Crawford smirked slightly.  "We thought you'd come."

_~WE?  What's this WE shit?  You holding out on us again, fearless leader?~_

_~Would I do that?~_

_~In a heartbeat.~_

Well… maybe he would, but he hadn't.  The Elder hadn't been dead long enough to allow him to use his powers effectively.  He watched the redhead, well both of them actually, bristle a bit.

"Give me back my sister!"

"We can't do that.  We need her too."

_~You just can't leave it alone, can you?~_

_~Well… don't we need her?  As  ransom for safe passage at the very least?~_

The lanky blond shifted in place.  "In other words, come and get her by force, ne?"

"That's right."  He looked eager to face off with the tallest Weiß member.

There was a moment… when everyone just looked at each other.  Schu and Farf were poised to attack, as were the members of Weiß, Crawford watched calmly, Nagi impassively, the girl they had retrieved looked nervous, but determined.

Then the moment was over… Schu and Farf leapt forward, as did most of Weiß.  The swordsman drew his blade.  "I won't let my sister suffer anymore!"

Crawford glanced over to see Sakura heading for the comatose figure.  His gift warned him in time to avoid the katana and in the same motion he drew his gun.  "No you won't."  There was the sound of a gunshot, then searing pain caused him to drop his gun.  Everyone paused.

"Manx!"

"I finally got in touch with Birman."

The building shifted underfoot and the woman used the slight confusion to get down to floor level safely.  She pulled Aya-chan up and the three females started to head for the exit.

Holding his hand, the American moved to follow.  "Not so fast."  

Fujimiya interposed himself and his sword. "I will fight you!

_~Crap… there goes our hostage.~_

_~We will have to fight our way out.~_

**

Time seemed to slow.  Nagi faced off with the youngest blond, and though he could have easily flattened the older teen like a bug, he didn't.

Farfarello kept an eye on his younger teammate, assisting when the boy was about to be slashed to ribbons by the claw-wielding brunette.  He too could have easily slaughtered the young men he fought against.  But he didn't.

Schuldich had his hands full with the lanky blond.  They were closely match physically and with everything going on, the redhead had to keep his shields up, which meant he didn't know what Youji was going to do.  He was able to keep the wire from removing his head, but couldn't free a hand to get to his gun.  He could have eliminated the former detective with a single thought, but he didn't.

To Crawford… it was almost like everything was a dream.  A dream he had dreamt so many times in the past, that it was hard to tell if it was really happening or not.  So many years… so much had happened in that time.

Why did Weiß have to show up and make everything so difficult? They had actually managed to betray Esset, something he'd been planning and plotting for years. They were on the brink of achieving all they had worked for… and then THEY had to arrive.

Even as Crawford moved to face off with Weiß's katana wielding leader, part of his concentration was still on his own team's redhead. He ducked and dodged, mocking the younger man, even as he watched Schu fight that blond playboy. He felt the building shake and shudder and with a sickening lurch… the floor beneath them gave way. He caught Schu's jade eyes with his own, just before they fell into darkness…

-Owari-

AN: *ducks the incoming*  Yes.  This IS the end… if you are really paying attention, you will have noticed that the end, is the same as the beginning.  This was my intent the entire time.  The story has come full circle, and so, is finished.  This is why I kept saying that I knew what the ending was, I just had to get there.  The entire story has basically been one big LONG flashback.  Don't kill me!!!  The story actually DOES continue, if you've read 'All or Nothing' and it could possibly go into the Omi/Nagi series, 'Do You Love Me?'  However… at this time I have no plans to 'fill in' the time between.  

Again, thank you for your interest, your reviews, and the occasional kick in the rear that kept me going.  This list is not intended to slight anyone or leave anyone out.  I went through the currently 358 reviews and wrote down the names of those who repeatedly reviewed.  Sabacat, Akiko and Sakura, TalonSage, rikkali, madiha, Umi no Yuki, shi-chan, EmperessRose, Briar Rose6, Ryuke-Naoe, Megami, Keimei, NekoLynn, Blue6-Blood66, Umifirefly15, Faraway4today, Mara-chan, DragonSoul, futagoakuma-tenshi01, Bloodrose 'Valentine' Foxxstar, Tysoyo Kalli,Seraph1, Shinomegami13, Suninun, TrenchcoatMan, apocalipticoblivion, etc etc etc.     Arigato gozaimasu!  Ja, Yanagi


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